Jedi Legends: The Strength Of The Sacrificed
by QueenYoda
Summary: The fifth book in the series. When the Sith attack Ilum, intending to destroy the last living artifact of Jedi culture, The surviving Jedi ban together to save the one thing that has always been theirs, dragging The Rebel Alliance behind them. In a final pitched battle between Light And Dark, soon dawn has to come, or night has to fall.
1. Chapter 1

_Except heaven had come so near, so seemed to choose my door, the distance would not haunt me so, I had not hoped before. But just to hear the Grace depart, I never thought to see, afflicts me with a double loss, tis lost, and lost to me._

_-Emily Dickinson_

* * *

**_Five years after the rise of the Empire:_**

~Sidious's POV~

The Death Star was nearing completion. Darth Sidious waltzed unto the bridge of his cruiser, and watched as, outside of his windows, droids floated about the giant sphere idly, and tool's of welding in their clutches.

Acidly, he smiled in reflection. The Death Star would be indeed, his pride and joy. A monster not to be reckoned with, a monument to his leadership and power.

"How long until our weapon is fully functional?" He roared out to Captain Tarkin, standing directly behind him. Unlike most sentient beings, Tarkin was unafraid of him.

Probably because the inside of the captain's heart was as cold and hostile as the planet they were attacking.

Thanks to Dooku, the Jedi were predictable, easily foreseeable as stark daylight. The burning rays of sun may be able to blind, but that power came with a consequence: it often blinded both ally and enemy alike. That was why it had been so easy to hide underneath the Jedi's noses for four years.

They had been blinded by their own integrity, the determination to do good by their light. They were blind _fools_. Yet the dark gave sight, it gave reasoning, it gave true understanding. The Light Side-life- was resilient, but fragile, too easily breakable.

It would have only taken one man only to shatter everything the Jedi stood for, had Sidious gone with his original plan. Never the matter though, he had Vader to capture Anakin when the time came. His pupil had progressed well in his black body suit, his hatred more refined, honed, sharpened to a brisk edge.

The Order lived on in Sidious's Sith companion, halfway cross the galaxy, ignorant of the weapon of mass destruction that was being crafted by expressionless hands.

Dooku did not know it, could not see it so strong was his own blindness, but he was still honorable and gracious, it was in a dark way yes. But Sith were neither honorable or gracious at anytime, in any situation.

Dooku liked to pick and choose; he believed that to be evil, but Sidious knew that a true Sith had no clue what honor was at all. The fact that Dooku still knew, still _used _the code of honor, if not when chosen, meant something more.

So he was Sidious's model of Jedi mind-works. He actually was a very good model, for Sidious knew his plan, this time, would work he would own the Jedi, he would make the weak, fainthearted Order fall to its knees, and with it would go the Light Side. Sidious, in truth was not fighting the_ Jedi_. They were not worthy of his time, his very breath.

They were inadequate compared to the greater enemy of the Light itself. He intended to squash its remaining guardians. He intended to have the Dark rule, without interference from the other half.

And in the end, he-only he-would then be king of the dark, immortal, insurmountable, insoluble. Sidious planned on being more than just the Emperor, he was going to be _sovereign_.

Forever.

* * *

~Yoda's POV~

Grand Jedi Master Yoda had lived over two centuries. He had seen the rise and fall of both Sith and Jedi. He had fought in many, many wars. He had _survived_ many, many wars.

He knew of wisdom that others had discarded in favor of a new generation, and a new time. He had learned lessons from each new initiation as they came…And went, passing him by like leaves falling from the trees as the seasons altered.

This war, that many claimed was like no other, _was_ different, but those others may have had differing opinions had they seen what Yoda had seen.

The diminutive Master would admit that the Jedi had lost more in this war than any other had. More people, more younglings, more supplies, more morals, more hope…More of their cherished traditions.

They could not lose one more. The Jedi Order could not afford to lose Ilum. Ilum _was _the Jedi Order, the very basis of their religion, their identities. It kept locked away their history, and without a history, there is no present, no future wisely found.

How could they expect to find a future if they lost their past? No, it would not do. Ilum, added to that, was also the home of lightsaber crystals. _True_ ones, not those forged by the Sith.

Inside freezing caves lay saber crystals for thousands of generations ahead, and as every Jedi knew, your lightsaber was your life.

So in it lay the lives of thousands of future Jedi. All stored on the planet of Ilum, hidden in caves rested the future and past.

Every secret the Jedi had possessed over time, every secret mission and fable, axiom and morals, all lay in the caves, vulnerable to invaders. Ilum had never been invaded, nor populated, in the history of the Republic. Mostly because many people did not know about it.

It was too cold for any species to thrive, but underneath the cold exterior lay in wait a rich history, and the lives of a greater future. But the Republic was dead, it's history cut short as well, its Senate Building inhabited by foolish, submissive cowards, its temple desecrated by _Sith. _Ilum was the only thing his Order had left; the only hope the Jedi could hang unto soundly.

The Sith knew this. That was why they strived to take it.

The Jedi knew this as well, though their spoken reasons varied, and this was why they strove to _keep_ it. In truth, it had been much too long already. Two months spent fighting Empire forces to save Ilum. There were other planets, further goals elsewhere.

After all, this was no longer the Republic but the Alliance. There was no way to get more resources other than steal it from the Empire.

There were important Sith bases that required their attention, and slave markets to crash. And Jedi did not cling to something, fight for it so feverishly when there were greater targets elsewhere. That was _attachment_, that was selfish.

Yet Yoda could not bring himself to call Skywalker and Tano back.

He merely called to check on them. The last time he had checked, the two Jedi, both fancifully named and adored by the public had been outrageously outnumbered. It was miracle of the Force itself they had not been already decimated or captured.

It had been Mace, actually, to volunteer Skywalker, And Master Shaak Ti to advise Ahsoka. Yoda had expected different from the former. He had expected that, after the first week, Skywalker would demand to know why they were still trying to protect Ilum when there were greater adventures waiting for him.

Skywalker had made no such insinuation so far. In fact, he had fought as relentlessly, as gallantly, as devotedly as Yoda had only expected from his former teacher or from a dutiful, temple-born Jedi; not a stranger still new to their integrated web of family, bound by midi-chlorians.

"Your status, what is?" Yoda asked, abandoning his slightly hypocritical way of contemplation to gaze upon the tall form of Skywalker himself. "Not good, Master Yoda," Skywalker breathed. He was busy, apparently. His lightsaber buzzed in front of him, deflecting bolts. Yoda heard the screech of something primal in the background and shivered.

_Sith._

Thankfully, their informants told them Vader was elsewhere in the galaxy. After Mustafar, his thirst for Anakin was worse than Sidious's. Though Yoda knew that their meeting was inevitable, he did not favor the idea of the cruel bringer of death to encounter Skywalker. Not after Mustafar.

Anakin noticed his disgust, and gave him a sly, tired grin. "We've been boarded again, I'm afraid," he explained somewhat apologetically, as if discussing nothing more than a slight change in wind temperature.

Yoda's ears twitched in mild irritation. They had been boarded ten times in the past two weeks. "You're defenses, holding they are not?" he questioned.

Anakin grunted as he pushed back a straggly droid. "Not well," he gasped, back to his task. "I've given them every trick I have, but we've got two ships to their six; we're dearly outnumbered and maneuvered. We'll need back up soon or we're- Rex, look out!- toast, master," he said, calm for all that was currently taking place on his side of the proceedings.

"Protect Ilum, you must!" Yoda ordered, alarm getting the best of him. Anakin glanced at him with vexation; yet steel determination.

"Until my dying breaths, master," he agreed a bit coldly, breathless himself. Yoda nodded. "The ambassadors, on their way they are. Reinforcements, coming soon they should be," he hoped they were.

He had perfect confidence in his chosen speakers, but sadly, not even the greatest Jedi were infallible. If these negotiations failed, if Bail did not hear the words behind the words, and paid more attention to the diplomatic strategy (something he was known for, to both advantage and disadvantage) rather than what was_ right_, then Ilum would fall into the hands of….No, he would not think of this.

In this battle, they could not afford such weaknesses as _doubt._

* * *

So I offer you the next chapter in this long saga! I hope it concedes to everyone's standard, and I greatly hope this story is as breathtakingly (if not less angsty) emotion inspiring as the ones before. By the way, Ilum probably was not the holding center for much of the Jedi's more...Interesting history, but for the sake of the plot, just try to imagine a whole treasures worth of historical data hidden in the caves, okay?

~Queen Yoda


	2. It begins

~Windu's POV~

Hyperspace was bare, and giddy to a force-user. In a place where there was no up or down, left or right, beginning or end, in between space, time and in no measurable distance, meditation was treacherous here. In truth, Mace had no idea how transmissions got through the dizzying atmosphere to invade their small ship.

It involved much technological speak and knowledge that would have leaned more towards Qui-gon's curious mind than his own.

He hated all technology in itself, actually, and tended to avoid it whenever possible. For this reason alone, did he endure Obi-wan's_ fascinating_ lecture on the subject. It was only natural Obi-wan would know.

If not a tad annoying.

Though, Mace tolerated it, for the sake of Qui-gon's memory and boredom. After all, Obi-wan was merely trying to pass the time. Being tuned into the Unifying Force as they were; hyperspace and well, space as an overall general did not appeal to their wits.

It made unswerving logic, usually their area of excellent expertise, difficult, and the high stakes of their mission was strain enough, lightening the load with a bit of unusual education was a wise trick, learned over decades of hyperspace travel.

But for _force sakes,_ Mace did not care what a neutralizing transistor had to do with the diode of a conserving battery drive. It was enough to drive a man frenetic; Mace wondered however Skywalker and his dead friend had put up with it for more than two minutes. Even _he _was tempted to tune out.

"Obi-wan," he interrupted curtly, as his eyelids began to droop. He glanced over at his partner, sitting in the co-pilot's chair casually.

Obi-wan had a look of boredom on his face as well, and Mace wondered if he was even aware of what he had begun talking about. Again, hyperspace travel disoriented them, plain and simple.

"Obi-wan you are my valued friend…But you're driving me mad, be_ silent_," he ordered. The youngest council member chuckled deeply and looked up with good-natured eyes. "I suppose two days in the same ship as me does that. Most others would have strangled me already. I congratulate you on your control, Master Windu," he replied, serenely.

Mace snorted in amusement and looked back out at the endless tunnel of swirling lights and passing by space. Two days in this maddening state, aboard a maddening ship that smelled oddly, of…

Force, he had no clue but it was positively _rancid._ This might have been for good reason, due to the fact, that the ship that carried them, (if not somewhat shakily) had been stolen by pirates before thenceforth being highjacked by them.

"Have we checked the cargo bay yet?" He inquired, desperate enough to explore the rest of this vulgar vessel. He hated idleness and boredom, intelligent sentient beings often did, he had observed. If Obi-wan were in any discomfort at all, he did not show it.

"I have," he replied neutrally. "There is nothing but stolen ammunition in there, and other things the Rebellion will find useful. We can deliver them as gifts," he yawned, then perked up.

"Master Yoda," he stated randomly. Mace stared at his fellow council member, wondering what in the blazes Yoda had to do with anything.

Just at that moment, Mace's comm. link beeped. Mace gave Obi-wan, grinning victoriously, an odd look and plugged the tiny device into the larger console.

A small hologram of Jedi Master Yoda appeared, hunched over and leaning on his cane. Obi-wan and Mace nodded cordially, and Yoda returned the gesture, his expression grave.

"How long is it, until reach your destination you will?" he asked, curtly. "An estimated two hours, Master Yoda," Mace replied without hesitation. He had been counting down the minutes since they stepped aboard.

"How is the battle over Ilum currently progressing?" Obi-wan inquired. "Progressing, it is _not_," Yoda declared, snapping his walking stick down with a firm thump. He looked displeased.

"Outnumbered, is Skywalker. Stay there much longer he cannot. With all due haste you must have," he commanded. Mace glanced at Obi-wan wondering if he knew anyway to make them go any faster than light speed.

The other council member was merely stroking his beard thoughtfully, though. "Another thing," Yoda continued, his eyes softening under their determined stares.

"These negotiations, most important negotiations in history of Jedi Order they are. Fail, you two _will not,"_ he leaned forward, large green eyes burrowing into their own with intense concentration, as if he could_ force_ his will into them, as if he could defeat time, circumstance and the Dark side through them if only he _imposed_ more of his age-old wisdom.

Once that stare, kindled with emerald flames, had terrified Mace. Now, he understood it. He bowed his head deeply, his shoulders heavy with burden. Fifteen thousand years of history laid in his palms, billions of past lives and future ones came crashing down on him and Obi-wan. He inhaled sharply, and squared his shoulders.

Obi-wan did none of this. He, somehow, was past squaring shoulders and inhaling breaths. He took the news with stunning composure, hands folding placidly in his lap, one knee being slung over the other while he leaned back, nonchalantly. Yet the dangerous edge to his firmly set mouth, the almost predatory tenseness to his shoulders bespoke of a readied man.

"Understood, master," they replied in meager unison. Yoda nodded once, grunting with the movement. "May the force be with you," he commanded before the hologram fizzled out. Once he was gone, the two of them stayed in a chilling silence.

_"These negotiations, most important negotiations in history of Jedi Order they are..."_ Mace smiled evenly, honored to have been tasked with this opportunity to serve his Order, despite the challenges. He was fighting for something larger than him; and that was an honor, if not an enormous burden.

It was not everyone and everyday one received a chance to defend his family's honor. "Let us see if I learned anything from Anakin. I believe we might be able to transfer some more power to the engines," Obi-wan suggested lightly.

Devoid of word, Mace followed him back to the engine rooms.

* * *

**_Later:_**

Alderran had historically been a place of exquisite beauty. Knowledge, philosophy and cultural excellence, and Mace was gratified to see that it had not changed that much since the days of Sidious's rule, never the matter that the planet held the Rebel Alliance's Chancellor. By some miracle of the force, Sidious had not trashed Alderran.

Mace was not inclined to think it was because of Sidious's well renowned mercy, but rather his universe-known ignorance. The ship did not land, of course, in the palace hangar bay.

Despite his delicate unawareness of Alderran, Sidious's claws extended even there by way of droids, whom were crawling over the spaceports and towns like ants.

Their mission would proceed best if they were_ not_ spotted and had to chop off a few mechanic limbs, and so to the secret underground bunker they went.

Known only to the highest levels of Rebel government and Jedi, Bail's true home lay miles underneath the Imperial Palace. After all, these were perilous and deadly times, filled even on peaceful Alderran with tense uneasiness.

Bail Organa met them twelve meters below sea level. The pale bulbs illuminating the cave walls and landing platform shone with ominous light on the multicolored stalactites above.

Mace glanced at the several engineers rushing to unload their stolen cargo and refuel their filched ship. Two handpicked Rebel guards, both of whom were in orange suits and standing erect as any clone, flanked Bail on either side.

Mace followed Obi-wan off the ship, cloaks pulled tight around them for warmth in the damp and chilled air of under-levels. As always, Bail Organa was flocked by weariness and wilting determination in the Force.

His compassion, however, remained untouched by the burdens placed on his shoulders. He grinned, bag-likened eyes crinkling with sincere pleasure at seeing them alive and well again. Mace and Obi-wan bowed deeply.

"Master Kenobi, Master Windu,"' he greeted cheerily, where others would have merely dubbed them with a toneless _'Master Jedi.'_

Small titles such as that would not have irked most people, but it had always caused an irritated itch underneath Mace's collar. Were they not individual people, too? He was proud-honored, humbled- to stand as a Jedi, but he did have a _name_.

"Chancellor," Mace greeted without any emotion. Obi-wan stepped forward to catch Bail in a genial handshake. They were good friends, those two, ever since…No, Mace would not let himself be distracted with memories of that time, early days of the Clone War.

Emotions were distraction. "Please, please, let's get out of this damp hovel and go inside. Master Yoda told me your message was urgent?" Bail asked, as they began to walk inside. Mace and Obi-wan exchanged looks. A spark passed through them, not even with the aid of the Force.

_"These negotiations, most important negotiations in history of Jedi Order they are. Fail, you two will not,"_ Apparently, he had not made the point so clear to Bail already. The one defect of having a master who insisted that you learn lessons through uphill struggle and self-sufficiency.

Bail noticed their shared memory and nodded, gravely. "I see," the perceptive man observed thoughtfully, despite the fact that Mace knew he was groaning internally. "You bring me bad news," he guessed.

"From a certain point of view," Obi-wan admitted. Bail grinned at the perfect Kenobi aphorism and turned. "Well, then, let's see what _point of view_ I shall take then, hmm?" He queried, leading the way inside.

* * *

The underground meeting room looked much like the one above. Large, towering walls painted soft brown, and stained with gold symbols of Alderran. A long wooden table took up most of the room, occupied by dozens upon dozens of chairs on either side.

Bail took a random seat and the two Jedi settled in across from him. No one else was here, and Mace was well aware of the feeling of emptiness and purposelessness residing in the air around them.

He ignored it, instead pushing his hands into his sleeves absently and let the famed _Negotiator_ take the lead. "Now," Bail began professionally, folding his hands. He fixed Obi-wan with an attentive look. "What is it?" he began, without further stipulation.

Mace admired his cool. He had seen and conversed with Bail Organa several times in the past, but instead of melting underneath the pressure of war and leadership, as many commanders did, Bail seemed to thrive under the challenge, though the lines and wrinkles that had been added to his features were not from age alone, Mace knew.

"About three months ago, we sent two Jedi to the planet of Ilum to protect it from Empire invasion," Obi-wan told him, to begin. Bail's brows scrunched together. "I don't remember authorizing such an endeavor..." He started to say, doubtfully.

"Unsurprising," Obi-wan agreed, placid. "Because the Jedi in fact have not informed anyone outside of the Order about it," he responded. Bail raised his eyebrows, betraying nothing more than mild surprise. "I see," he responded, coolly.

Mace tried to see through the unperturbed mask Bail had in place with the force, but it told him only that Bail was curious at this point. It was not like the Jedi-or, from a certain point of view, as Obi-wan would have it- that the Jedi keep military secrets. The Jedi council thought otherwise.

"And why was I exempt from this plan, may I ask?" Bail inquired politely. "Ilum is Jedi business," Obi-wan declared shortly, waving his hand to dismiss the subject.

Bail did not seem to want to let it go so easily although. "The resources of this Alliance are _my _business," he replied with just as much courteous curtness. "And Ilum…Hmm, oh, I remember. Wasn't Ilum rumored to be the planet you Jedi originated from?" he asked.

"We have no clue," Mace put in helpfully. It was true; the Jedi had no inclining of what planet the original light-users had descended from, and admittedly, had not looked into it much. Such facts could bring about superiority and conflict within the ranks of younglings and knights.

"Ilum may or may not be that," Obi-wan agreed, his resolute eyes unflinching from Bail's. Mace had noticed something about Obi-wan, little quirks since he had returned from Torture at Bruck's hands.

For one, he seemed to _blink_ less. And there was a sort of insane, unchanging tenseness to his eyes, as if he were not concentrating on you but keeping them intact.

Turning from_ those_ distracting trains of logic, he returned to the conversation. "But for as long as our history stretches back, and we both know _that_ is an incalculable number, my friend," Bail gave a small smile and nod to this statement.

The Jedi had been around forever, it must seem to him. Mace knew that indeed it could have been the case, they only had recorded mission history dating back two-thousand years.

_We __**did**__ have it, once_ he remembered bitterly, feeling tendrils of fury creep underneath tight shields. That information had been annihilated with the Temple; and a number of other times before the Temple as well.

"The Jedi have, as long as Master Yoda tells us, furtively stored our history in the caves of Ilum's mountains and, confidentially, Ilum is where lightsaber crystals grow," Mace smiled lightly as Bail's eyes lit up. It was an oft repeated question about Jedi.

"I see why you would wish to keep it secret," Bail accepted them a minor victory. "Yes," Obi-wan leaned forward, and smiled. "And now we wish to keep it_ safe_. We are officially requesting your permission to take _all _available troops, every squadron, battalion and general out of the fields to assist in the fight," that request shocked the bold senator into paling considerably.

Then, in a very undignified move, Bail let out a quiet curse in a language Mace did not know. Obi-wan knew it, apparently, because he grinned.

"Y-you want me to grant you permission to take all of our ships, every clone, rebel soldier, and Jedi out of the field…To protect _one_ planet?" Bail sought to clarify, gaspingly. "Have you gone positively _mad_?" he demanded in a dangerously high-pitched and un-leader-like voice.

"Years ago, yes," Obi-wan chirped cheerily. Mace bit back a grin, and waited their verdict. It was thankfully swift in coming. "Master Jedi, I…" Shaking his head, as if to clear their influence on him, Bail stood and began pacing, eyes scrunched in confusion and aggravation.

"No general in the history of any war has taken every scrap of his forces to one specific place. There are thousands of planets out there who need our help, who _depend_ upon the rebels… We cannot do everything, and admittedly, we don't do much because Sidious keeps our hands full, but we need every soldier out on that field. Every soldier_ and_ Jedi."

Bail stopped, and penetrating brown eyes seized them both in a penetrating grip. "But you're Generals yourselves- you know this, perhaps better than I do. So I can only wonder, why would you ask this of me?" he demanded.

"We ask," Mace piped in, taking the direct approach where so forth it had failed. "Not for ourselves, but the Jedi as a whole. We_ need_ Ilum, Chancellor," he emphasized. "For what? Don't the Sith make their own lightsabers?" He thought it was for the sabers alone that they wanted this?

"_Fake_ lightsabers, with half the power of real ones," Obi-wan answered, bitterly. "Furthermore, it is not necessarily a question of _material _value, chancellor. Ilum is connected to us; our _history_ is there, thousands of years of history that we don't have any clue about, perhaps even some archaic scrolls on the origin of the Sith…" the man hastened to explain, imploring through the force for Bail to _see_.

"So why not get a team to quickly extract all the lightsabers and history?" Bail asked, puzzled. Mace inhaled sharply. Obi-wan showed no physical signs of stress, but Mace heard his shock echo in the force.

Take things from…Ilum? Take the lightsaber crystals_ out_?

That would be the worst violation of honored territory, a most atrocious desecration, foully spoken blasphemy. Pulling the secrets out of Ilum, from the caves that had hidden and sheltered them so long was the equivalent of disobeying the force itself.

It was the same as not only tearing down and digging up a cemetery, but an _intergalactic _cemetery, full of brave warriors who had given their lives for a just cause, the ultimate sacrifice paid in full.

Yet Bail did not know this, and he could not sense their distress. Obi-wan and Mace exchanged glances. This was going to be harder than originally thought.

"That," Obi-wan cleared his throat, sounding hoarse. "Might present a small problem. Ilum is an all ice planet, chancellor. Many of the artifacts and paintings and documents are buried within thousands of layers of ice and rock.

And those not buried are hidden in deep, secret caves which must only be found and passed by trial of heart," he explained, though neither of them were positive of this. Bail, to Mace's gratitude, accepted this easily enough.

"We face an impasse, then," he sighed, as he sat back down, tiredly. "No we do not," Mace replied. "We need only to_ fight_ the Sith off. They simply want to destroy Ilum because they know that it will destroy the _Jedi._ And I am sure Dooku is the one who told them of it," he gathered sourly.

Blasted traitor. Not only had he betrayed the Republic, but the entire _Order_, down to the youngest youngling, by bringing Sith to Ilum.

"So," Bail gathered, calmly, his eyes unwavering and somehow sorrowful. "You want me to send all of our troops,_ abandoning_ every other planet in the process, to save not a planet that has strategic or informational value to _the galaxy _as a general whole, but moral and chronological value to only the Order?" he summed it down.

_Well, when he says it that way it sounds rather negative,_ Obi-wan thought to Mace through the force. Mace sent a wave of agreement back over. "If that is the way you wish to think of it, I suppose that could be true as well," Obi-wan agreed, without preamble.

"What is _your_ view of the truth, Master Kenobi? Because frankly I'm struck dumb for what else you expected me to say," Bail sighed, massaging his shoulders. Mace could sense his frustration, directed not only at them, but The Empire itself for making them come to him and ask this.

"I see it as preserving what strap of honor we have left," Obi-wan stated, bluntly. Both Bail and Mace stared at him, surprised. Obi-wan sighed wholeheartedly and leaned back, eyeing Bail with an expression that belonged on a much older man.

"I think I preferred my opinion of it," Bail groaned. "As do I," Obi-wan softly confessed. "And Bail, believe me, I wish it were that simple. I yearn that it were. Force, it would make all of our lives so much more straightforward if that were the case…But it isn't. It never was. I want you to imagine this, if only for a second, imagine _us_," here Obi-wan leaned forward, and lowered his voice to the perfect tone, and the most urgent, fatigued longing Mace had ever heard from the aloof Jedi master.

And he knew then that Obi-wan was feeling the pressure of fifteen thousand years of work and toil, he was hearing the future voices that would cry out for some shrapnel of the dignity they had once had before. The Jedi were once great…Could they ever be great again?

"First we are thrown, head first into war, and not only by some random psychotic madman, but by one of our _own_. By a fellow Jedi. Hundreds died on Geonosis because of Dooku. Jedi dropped like flies, you know it-you saw the footage. We were _massacred_, Bail. Do you know what that did to the Jedi Order? We mourned those people, even the ones we did not know. All of us, we mourn differently than you, but we still mourned. I know Jedi seem invincible, but that just proved that we aren't," force, wasn't that the stark reality of it now?

Once invincible keepers of a fragile peace, now maids of a dirty and huge house of scattered confusion and chaos, with too little servants to continue it kept up. After awhile, you just stopped sweeping, and ceased trying to wipe the counters if they were only going to get filthy again.

Eventually, you gave up, and that was what had been happening. Not giving up, precisely, but slipping. They were tripping and falling in the disorderly second-hand goods heaped on their once sparkling floor.

"Then four years, four _eternal_ years in war. Where we halted being peacekeepers, and instead became generals, and more often than not, prisoners of war. In the Clone War, we were forced to murder and pillage, Bail, for the greater good. And that greater good which we claimed was a perfect Republic? It was not. You know it was not. Masters were killed, knights were tortured- believe me, I was one of them, you went with me- and younglings, Ahsoka was fourteen when we drafted her into war for lack of people_. Fourteen._ That had never been done before in our history, as far as we know," Bail stared, unblinking.

Much of this he knew already, Mace suspected. But just because you knew didn't mean you cared, or had been taken the time to_ think_ about it. Bail may have known, but had he ever stopped to think of the Jedi as anything besides useful allies and powerful super-beings?

Had anyone ever stopped to wonder how this war made _them_ feel?

"Then, added to that, we come across a chance to end the Clone War at Genesis, where indeed Palpatine _did_ call all of our forces to one place. At Genesis, we discover our chancellor is a Sith, and an army of further Sith await to exterminate us, and they do. I still have no_ clue_ how they did it, Bail, but they did. The Sith won. The Republic died that day, and with it went the Jedi,"

Obi-wan shrugged, as if none of this were of great consequence. He seemed to be reading roam text book now, as if he had not witnessed and lived through each of these events himself.

"Twenty five Jedi were left after the Last battles. Twenty-five out of the near two hundred we had before. I lost many dear friends that day, Bail, people I _grew_ up with. Since then, we have fought with you-for you for virtually six years now. Ten years of war, and we are dying off by the seconds, and not from war injuries. Most cases of dead Jedi are from one or two things: exhaustion or suicide, you take your pick of which we tell the public."

_Yes, well, you did not need to include that part,_ Mace begrudgingly thought, as Bail's eyes widened to the size of saucers. None outside of the Order knew this. "Why wasn't I told of this?" he demanded. "We're telling you now," Mace pointed out.

"And we're also telling you that if the Jedi are not given a reason to fight, if we do not have some link to what we were before, the Jedi will die. One by one, over the next few years, until not even the younglings will be left to fight. We are_ dying_, Bail. If we don't have Ilum, the last fragment of home we consider worthy, we _will _die, because at the moment death seems preferable than spending the rest of our lives in war. So," Obi-wan gave him an apologetic smile.

"That's the reality at the moment. I'm sorry we had to give it to you that way, but there it is. Ultimately, it's your decision," he said, without any haughtiness or accusation in his voice. He was merely stating the facts, and the fact was that the Jedi needed to fight for the last fragment of home they had, or they would lose hope and starve in war.

Bail leaned back, his face an empty mask of realization and stress. Mace felt a twang of guilt that they had given him the complete of this. After all, none of it was Bail's fault, and the blame lay somewhat on the Jedi. Yet more of it lay on the Republic itself, and the Senate, and to Sidious.

_We have spent ten years trying to fix our part in that mistake to no avail, please, just give us this one favor in return. _

_Just this once; help __**us**__,_ Mace pleaded of the force, of the Republic, of the universe. This time, it was the saviors who need the saving, who needed aid. He prayed Bail would see that. That someone would, before it was too late.

Bail sighed, and leaned forward, placing his chin in his hands. His brown eyes swam with indecision. Obi-wan watched him passively; Mace could see the slight tremble of his hands though, on the armrests of the chair. His own palms were slick with sweat, and his heart raced in his chest. Bail opened his mouth, then closed it again.

_Please, please, __**please**__…_

Heaving a great and long sigh, Bail closed his eyes. "The others are going to_ kill_ me for this," he spat. "But yes, I give authorization," Mace's heart leapt. He could have sprung from his chair in delight. Obi-wan allowed himself a breath of relief.

They exchanged celebratory glances, expressions unchanging. "I think…" Bail tapped his fingers contemplatively, smiling wryly. "That the Rebel Council could benefit from coming along," he said.

Mace blinked. Obi-wan stroked his beard. "To test your new government?" he inquired. Bail nodded. "The ultimate sacrifice is to give your life to a cause. The delicate hands of future senators need to pass along the genes of sacrifice and hard work. We can all learn from Jedi influence," he told them knowingly, winking at Obi-wan.

"It will be a dangerous situation," Mace warned. "That's what I'm depending on," Bail agreed cheerily. "I suppose it's decided then," Obi-wan interrupted, just as Mace was about to tell Bail that no, the Rebel Senate could_ not_ come. The very stench of political principles could disturb Ilum's fragile balance in the Force. _Do not strain this new peace_, Obi-wan cautioned in his mind, sternly.

Mace clapped his mouth shut, reluctantly. "We should alert Master Yoda right away. There is not a moment to lose," he stated instead. Bail nodded. "It will be done," he promised.

**_Later:_**

"Well, Obi-wan, I do believe you qualify for the position of Grand Master," Mace observed, clapping his companion on the back as they ushered back into their stolen ship.

"Force forbid," Obi-wan chuckled, though he sounded tired. Mace heard this, and took his place in the pilot's seat before Obi-wan could. "No you don't. Sit down, _Negotiator,_ you have done well enough your work for today," he said, squeezing Obi-wan's shoulder.

"Very well. I'll contact Master Yoda as soon as we are free of this cave. Our troops need to be mobilized immediately," he reminded Mace as he prepped the engines. "Agreed. Hopefully, the signal is strong enough outside of the atmosphere," he glanced at his companion.

"That was quiet a speech," he observed, casually, wondering at the inspiration of it. Obi-wan gave him a weary smile, and looked out into the dark cave, thoughtfully.

"One of my more honest ones, admittedly. I try not to think of it, but what I said, we _are_ in that stage now, Mace," as if he did not already know. As if he did not see it every day.

Obi-wan was right, he did not think of it much either. He could not, not without going mad. Yet even if you did not want to see the truth; it was still there. It would never alter, and never leave.

"Yes we are," Mace agreed softly, as the ship began its nauseating rise. "Fifteen thousand years," Obi-wan murmured, pensively. He steepled his fingers together, head cocked to one side.

Mace understood the awe in his voice. Fifteen-thousand years was such a long time, such a long reign, all crumbled in the span of one night.

"_Fifteen thousand_ years of sacrifice," Mace saw Qui-gon's face reflected in Obi-wan's eyes. He inhaled, heart panging in tune to his friend's once Padawan. Yes, sacrifice.

"Battles," he heard the sound of falling bombs. He felt the crunch of broken bones, the howls of the dying, the fear of the captured.

"And strife," for none of them were spared any amount.

Obi-wan sighed. "All I want for my people now is Ilum. I ask for nothing more." He sounded guilty that he had said the word _'want' _at all. They stared out of the window, and reflected that the Jedi had never asked for anything in return for their services.

Nothing.

Ever.

Until now, was that a sign of decaying honor, the ring of neglected morals, forgotten codes and values? Mace did not believe so, because they only asked one thing. One thing in all this time. Though, when he sighed it, the words came out and sounded more of an excuse than a reason.

"All we want is Ilum."


	3. Wife and rebel

**_Two days Later:_**

Across the galaxy:

~Padme's POV~

"You made the right decision Bail," Padme soothed her friend, over hologram. "Then why do I feel as if I have betrayed the Alliance?" Bail moaned, his blue visage twitched every now and then, as if the picture sought to explain why he looked so dourly grim.

Padme, resting lightly on her knees, cushioned by the meditation pillow underneath her, reflected that the Jedi were not so silly after all for preferring these cushions to chairs.

She continued her task of folding Luke's shirt over her knees serenely, content in her role of mother and rebel leader, despite the late hour.

"The others might think it so," she replied. "Yet I believe that in truth, what other choice do we have?" She asked. "I could always just give them a task force to remove the things from Ilum's caves…" Bail considered, almost pleadingly.

Padme shushed him by wagging a strict finger in his direction. "You _promised_," she scolded before he could mull over this further.

"And besides, the Jedi are all probably on their way there as we speak. Preparations are ready to go here as well. I'll stop by Alderran on my way to Ilum and pick you up," she told him, already decided upon this.

Bail needed a break in her opinion; in due time, the other Rebel councilors would chew him up and spit him out for his decision. The least she could do was offer him a day of reprieve so that he could prepare for the coming guilt-fest.

"Padme, we're talking about lives, rebel_ lives_ that we're risking for one planet…" Bail began. "And how many times," Padme interrupted coolly, grabbing a small pair of freshly cleaned pants and fingering a stitch.

"Have we risked Jedi lives to save one planet?" she demanded. Bail sighed and rubbed his temples. "They're _trained _to do that," he pointed out, dully.

"Does that make it right?" Another sigh from him, and this time added to a grimace of migraine. "_Nothing _is right at the moment Padme. I feel so trapped. I've had to give up my own fair share of morals and principles. I've seen more death and defeat than I'd care too. The Republic, democracy, it seems like a far-flung dream right now. Stars above, even the_ Jedi_ are giving up," he groaned. Padme, who knew for a personal fact that the Jedi were incapable of _giving up_, merely shrugged.

"They are not giving up, Bail," she cocked her head as a shadow passed underneath the doorframe. She narrowed her eyes, but the shadow moved on, obviously having no intention of eavesdropping. She huffed, and glanced up at the vents overhead, Luke and Leia, now persistent five year olds, seemed adept at climbing into vents.

_"At five years old, they should not be able to do that,"_ she had grumbled to Anakin. _"I learned how to do that when I turned two,"_ Anakin had laughed. _"Be thankful they didn't follow in my footsteps." _

"The Jedi are tired," she grabbed another pair of breeches from the basket at her side. "They've had their entire world torn apart, lost half their numbers, all their principles, and now we would strip them of their traditions, their sense of pride in their history? I'd say _that_ would be a degeneration of morals," she stated firmly, without scruple.

Living with Jedi made it easier for her, but she remembered the days. Those eternal years when she had been queen, tasked with deciding life or death, poor or rich, benefits and the stealing of benefits. In that sort of world, everyone was a critic.

_I sure don't miss those days much,_ she reflected.

"But is their pride worth so many lives?" Bail argued. "Is our diluted, half honest cry for democracy worth their lives?" she retorted, with a scoff of indignance.

She sure did not believe her family's lives were worth it. Yet they did, and so her opinion was obsolete, not unknown or uncared about, but worth little in the broad spectrum of fighting hope and peace.

The individual was nothing; only what the individual represented was of crucial importance. Besides, they were luminous beings, not this gross ma…And blast, she was even thinking like a Jedi now!

"They're Jedi, Padme," Bail said, his weary eyes digging into her. He seemed to have forgotten just whose wife he was talking too.

"They're_ people_ too, Bail," she informed him, cognizant that this was a little known fact, but despite this it was, indeed, a true fact.

Padme knew that the general population did not want nor care to think about it that way. It was hard to consider that you were sending people, once a peaceful and diplomatic culture, out to fight a war for you. Even if it was the truth.

No one wanted to think that they were asking someone they did not know to die for them. The truth hurt. They were getting better though, the very idea that they were speaking of this in the pretense of morals rather than political gain and loss was a step forward from the barbaric personal gain of the previous Republic senate.

"Ugh, we could have this debate all night, and the only thing that would change is the increasing ache of my head," Bail groaned, pressing a palm to his temple and closing his eyes.

"You need rest," Padme concluded, severely. "That's true. When are you scheduled to depart?" Bail inquired, opening his eyes to gaze at her again.

"At dawn. I'm leaving the twins here with Captain Typho, Artoo and Threepio. Between those three, they should be occupied," she explained, when she noticed the question on his expression.

"How old are they? Five now? Don't they know some Jedi mumbo-jumbo?" Bail asked, with a wan smile. "They were _born_ knowing Jedi mumbo jumbo," Padme chuckled. "But all the same, that does not mean they're coming. They are-despite amazing abilities-only five, after all. Besides, the council is reluctant enough to ignore my marriage to Anakin. It will be best if they are not reminded of our defiance _overly_ much," She explained.

Bail cocked an eyebrow. "Overly?" He inquired. Padme looked down, hiding a grin. "Well," she said softly. "They have to be reminded sometime, now don't they?" Bail laughed.


	4. little stowaways

~Luke's POV~

The force was almost like a hurricane, and often Luke was in the eye of the storm. Windswept, rain pelted and cold-bitten, he could not ignore the prompting of the force if he tried. He didn't try; he hardly wanted to anyways.

The force was his friend, was his link to everything around him, sort of like a second mother who he walked behind in order to know his direction, not always the destination but always direction.

Or, that was what pitiful excuse Leia intended to tell their mother when they were caught eavesdropping. Luke, at five years old, had been frequently informed that he was not supposed to be as smart as he was.

This had always been said with grinning faces and amiable force signatures, so he had never taken it into much account. Honestly, though, he sometimes wished he were not so smart. More to the point, that _Leia_ were not so smart. She had been getting evasion lessons from Obi again, he knew.

That was how she had managed to trick Threepio into doing whatever blasted thing he was doing and Artoo into accidentally shutting himself down and…

Well, the Artoo thing had been sort of funny, but it still wasn't _nice_. He was not sure what Captain Typho was doing presently, they had made up some lie for him too, why they were not in bed sleeping.

Luke, despite the protestations he had given his sister, smiled as he shuffled along in front of her in the vents. He could feel the crouched tension in the force too, like the potential energy of a cocked bow, ready and waiting to set sail the arrow.

It was making the both of them fidgety. In the long-run, too, if no one found it beneficial to explain to them _why_, what were Jedi to do?

They were to find out on their blasted own, as Soka had declaimed one day during her story. Luke halted momentarily, stumped.

He was in the lead this time because his sense of people was greater than Leia's already. Father had said he was growing more perceptive of feelings and emotions by the day, just like father was. He was attuned to the future, too, but so was Leia.

He could sense their mother, and the vents they were crawling in vibrated gently with her voice, but his sense of where she was had become fuzzy. Leia stopped behind him, and sighed impatiently, but said nothing. She knew he lost his focus sometimes.

Luke inhaled deeply, and felt the force enhance his hearing and scent, so that he could smell his mother's worn perfume as if it were still strong and near. He grinned, victoriously, and pioneered further. _This way!_ He hissed to Leia through their bond. She nodded an affirmative and followed him determinedly.

Finally, Luke saw a beam of light ahead that signaled an end to darkness. _Sort of like the story father told us, _Leia mused through the bond.

_That even though dark is all around, if you look for a long time, you'll see that mostly it's made of light_. Luke nodded, finding no relevance to the current situation of eavesdropping and lying a signal of great and glorious light, but his sister _was _rather odd.

He scrambled across the short space to take up one side of the grill, where below his mother spoke over hologram with Bail Organa. Leia peered down, eyes sparkling.

Luke pushed a strand of thick hair out of his face, in unison to Leia, and they went flat on their bellies, barely breathing, force signatures hidden, and squirms fastened down in a strict hold of self-discipline. They were Jedi children, younglings of a great Order, they knew how to sneak and spy about with professionalism.

Below, Padme went on speaking to Bail, unawares of them above. Luke stilled the urge to itch his butt, which in the climb into the vents, had gotten rather tangled in a wedgie.

"Yet I believe that in truth, what other choice do we have?" Their mother was saying, her tone the sleepy sort of calm that she got late at night.

"I could always just give them a task force to remove the things from Ilum's caves…" Bail started to say, thoughtfully.

Luke inhaled harshly, and felt Leia's sharp burst of recognition. They met each other's eyes, an unspoken spark passed between them. Ilum, the place of ancient Jedi tradition, where merciless challenges were faced in order to find your lightsaber crystal.

Ilum was sacred and secret, what were they doing talking about it? All traces of doubt fled Luke's mind about their particular mission. Ilum was a Jedi place, Ilum was_ Jedi_ business, and so he and Leia had a _right_ to listen in on whatever fate it was being thrust into.

He set his lips, like Leia did at that exact moment, and thrust his ear against the cold metal, wrinkling his nose when he disturbed a thick sheen on dust on the vent's surface.

"You _promised_," Their mother interrupted, sternly. Luke smiled weakly, that was how she sounded when they did not eat all their food at dinner. He wondered if Bail ate_ his_ vegetables.

"And besides, the Jedi are all probably on their way there as we speak. Preparations are ready to go here as well. I'll stop by Alderran on my way to Ilum and pick you up," he raised his eyebrows. Was that so? Hmm, Luke's brain started to churn with an idea.

He glanced up, just to see Leia's quick smile of approval, before she jerked her head back the way they had come. Time to go. Luke nodded, and waited as she struggled to turn her body around in the limited space quietly.

It would not do to get caught now. At last, she managed to turn herself about and started crawling forward.

Luke hesitated, listening to a last piece of vital information. "That's true. When are you scheduled to depart?" Bail asked, being deliberately helpful to their cause, Luke was sure.

"At dawn. I'm leaving the twins here with Captain Typho, Artoo and Threepio. Between those three, they should be occupied," Luke nodded and scuttled after Leia, who was beckoning him away urgently. She gave him an inquisitive glance, yet he only smiled.

_ We leave at dawn_, he told her.

* * *

"How are we gonna get on board the ship?" Luke wondered, idly leaning against his little buddy bot, whom Obi had gotten for him last year. He had been working on giving it blasters on its feet, but had not finished yet.

Leia, who was sitting amidst her large stacks of small books across from him, most of which were in different languages, sat her chin in her palms thoughtfully. "I dunno," she sighed.

"We can't walk in, though. Mother would see us," she pointed out. "And what are we gonna do with Threepio, Artoo and Typho?" She added. "Artoo can come with us. I'll talk him into it," Luke promised.

"And I can _order_ Threepio to be quiet," Leia considered, her own best droid friend for some reason consisting of Threepio. "He _can't_ be quiet," Luke pointed out, dryly. He hated Threepio.

"He can if I order it," Leia argued self-importantly. She narrowed her eyes at him, daring contradiction, but Luke shrugged. He'd find a way to jettison the annoying piece of rubbish into space later.

"But still, can't Artoo get us aboard?" she asked. Luke shook his head. "I don't think so," he replied. He sat back, thinking. Suddenly, staring at the ceiling-the ceiling which enclosed them in a giant box of their own- he came upon his answer.

"The supplies!" he gasped. Leia cocked an eyebrow at him, but upon studying his face, grinned. "The _supplies,"_ She purred, with a dark chuckle. They grinned at one another and leaned back sleepily. This, Luke planned, was going to be so much_ fun_.

* * *

Okay, so the twins are a bit more advanced than most five year olds. To tell you the truth, I find it difficult writing them in an unadvanced fashion. It just doesn't scream Skywalker to me. Who knows What Anakin was doing at five? Or even Obi-wan!

An excerpt from the next chapters: _"What was that?" Bail demanded, as blasters were suddenly whipped from underneath clothes._

~Queen Yoda


	5. The oddball mission

~Anakin's POV~

"GET DOWN!" Anakin commanded his troops. To the average citizen, this is not something you would expect a general to scream at his men during a space battle, of all things and of all places.

After all, there was not much 'getting down' in space. Unless you wished to count the time he and Padme had been assigned that one diplomatic mission alone aboard _The Twilight_.

Other than that wholesome experience (which, now that he thought about it, _could_ be the reason he was a father to two children) indeed, he did not yell it often.

Though, when the s aid enemy was suddenly in the very _halls_ of your ship, well, the rules had to be changed.

This quintessential principle of survival promoted Anakin, then, to take the unconventional way and dive on his enemies from above, opposed to his usual direct approach. Hey, he had learned through hard years of war that survival trumped glory most days. Glory was nice, but survival was just downright spectacular.

"Go! Go! Go!" Rex ordered, as Anakin clashed blades with the She-Sith. "Hello again, handsome," Deathdera greeted, spreading her mouth in an expression similar to a grin.

Anakin gave her his most charming smile and a wink, stomach roiling with revulsion. "Nice to see you, my dove of death and despair," he quipped. She laughed, as if the name held some joy in it for her, and the fight intensified.

The clones surged past him, colliding with droids in the old-fashioned fight of battle-honed rage. Blasters frankly forgotten, the clones satisfied their war-hunger by mercilessly ripping the heads off their victims and tearing apart limbs, eyes ablaze with Jango Fett's personal grudge.

He and the Sith switched places, with her pushing and him defending. Anakin growled deep in his throat. He hated being on the defensive; it was blasted Obi-wan's job! He was_ offense_, always and forever.

"Okay, you seriously need a hobby," he grunted when Deathdera wrapped slender legs around his waist in a frontal attack, and proceeded to bombard him with her saber while crushing his ribcage with strong thighs.

"I have one," she replied, innocently. She was a chipper thing, and that annoyed him. Due to the fact that she had been annoying him for about two months now, he was not very inclined to be_ compassionate_ with her. "Get a new one!" he growled, attempting to spin her off his blasted hips. She was crushing his lungs, for force sakes.

"Feisty boy!" He was trapped against the door now, the door that led to the bridge. If he lost the bridge, they lost the _Resolute_. Granted, the original _Resolute _was probably still floating idly in space, all of its' crushed pieces rusted and frostbitten, along with its four predecessors, but Anakin was determined not to let the fifth fall into his enemy's hands. He had to protect Ilum. He had _promised _Yoda.

His back to the door, a she-Sith inches from his face- so close he could smell her rancid breath- her legs crushing his ribs, which hurt enough, thank you very much, she nearly overpowering him with her saber.

Anakin decided that he was going to take Leia's standpoint on Sith in general and decided that they were all a bunch of kriffing Sleemo's.

"You're so cute when you're defeated," Deathdera purred, right next to his ear. "You're so ugly each and every moment of the day," he ground out; the comment riled her to lick his earlobe.

He shivered, thoroughly _nauseated_ now. "Anakin!" Suddenly, to his utter relief, Captain Rex reappeared, and with a firm grunt, the Clone hit Deathdera in the back of the head.

He saw the Sith cringe, and momentarily her grip slackened. With a powerful force push, he had made sure she was _clean _across the hall from him and his defensive position. Anakin doubled over, gasping for breath. They had been at this too long. He wanted these Sith and forces off his ship now.

"Thanks Rex," he managed to grunt. Rex thumped him on the back. "I don't believe the senator would appreciate you flirting with disaster, sir!" Was the clone's retort.

"Hey, disaster was flirting with _me_, got it? That is our story," he replied, straightening up. He flicked his hand, and five more droids flattened, without so much as a magic word.

"If we live to tell the story!" Rex spat; ducking a stray blaster bolt. Anakin shook his head. "If I'm going to die Rex, you better believe someone _worthy_ is gonna kill me, not this she-witch!" he shouted over the noise.

Rex snorted, amused. "What if you just get shot, sir?" he inquired. Anakin knew the answer; he had been fatally shot before.

"Then you make sure and shoot whoever shot me!" He ordered. Rex let out a barked laugh and shook his head. "Anakin!" That was Ahsoka, yelling at him irritably over the comm. link. He could hear she was just as vexed and exhausted as he was.

"Why is it every time I ever go anywhere with you, I get shot at and it's barely two o clock in the morning!?" Ahsoka demanded. She wasn't vexed, Anakin heard. She was in pain, frustrated, and thoroughly peeved. He felt a flash of worry that disappeared in the heat of battle.

"You're down?" He wondered incredulously, side swiping a bolt. He narrowed his eyes at Deathdera, who had begun to come back to.

"Fives!" he called to the clone closest to her. Fives, without being asked, gladly gave the witch another clonk upside the head with his blaster.

"Thanks!" Anakin called, wishing instead that Fives had simply shot her, Jedi way of preserving life aside. Maybe he was out of ammo. Their resources had been scarce these past few days.

"No, I'm not _down_!" Ahsoka scoffed; affronted that he had even suggested this. Anakin immediately deduced to go about this gently, she sounded ready to commit mass murder.

"The blasted droid just shot me in my thrice-accursed shoulder. Now, this stupid piece of Sith scum wants to tell me that I'm a youngling!" She informed him, furiously. She was at the end of Jedi bounds, past the limits of reason. His old apprentice was a loose cannon now.

"I'll beat him up later," Anakin promised sincerely. Ahsoka hated to be called a youngling, she always had hated it. He remembered nearly getting his ear bitten off because he had dared to infer such a thing as her being _young._

"No! Come do it now!" She was on the verge of a tantrum. This was the wild, dangerous field now, full of treachery and female hormones. "Snips," Anakin explained, soothingly. "I'm defending the…"

"I DON'T _CARE_!" Ahsoka screamed, so loudly his ears rung with her brusqueness, and she was only calling over _comm. link_. "Okay," he mumbled meekly, accepting her very clear statement with finesse.

Rex glanced at him. "The commander's having a nervous breakdown?" he inquired knowingly. "She hasn't slept in a while," Anakin agreed. Rex leaned over Anakin's wrist.

"Don't worry, Ahsoka," He mollified her soothingly. "I'm on my way," he said. Before Ahsoka could formulate her answer, another voice joined their chat from the bridge's control unit.

"General! Commander! There are dozens more ships coming out of hyperspace!" Said Ember with an urgency that told Anakin just how many ships were coming straight at them. Too many, was his approximate guess. "Are they Rebel or Empire?" Ahsoka demanded from the other side of the ship, startled out of her raging temper.

"We can't tell, commander! They haven't emerged as of yet!" The clone reported. Anakin exchanged a glance with Rex. Without verbal agreement, more of intuitive understanding, they bolted onto the bridge.

Anakin skidded to a halt, eyes pivoting to take in the giant space-view windows, providing them with an excellent; and all too real visage of the battlefield still happening in the cosmos around them, and the six ships that outnumbered their three.

He glanced to the left. If any more Empire ships came, they were doomed, simply and cordially said. Suddenly, the door opened. There was a brief sound of blaster fire and screams before the entry closed again and Ahsoka Tano had joined them aboard the bridge. Her eyes did not flick to anyone before they settled upon the hyperspace opening spot.

Anakin put a hand on her shoulder, then on Rex's. He could sense the clone's steel determination to die beside Anakin, fighting for a cause that had become his own. Neither Rex nor Ahsoka felt any fear at the prospect of death.

Ahsoka, indeed, was exhibiting only minor irritation that she had been unable to save Anakin first. He squeezed her bony shoulder tightly.

_We haven't died yet,_ he reminded her. Ahsoka snorted. _Wait a few seconds,_ she advised him smartly. _That wish will soon be granted. _

The next second consisted mainly of the force's distinctive ripple that accompanied all hyperspace exits. Though, that second also consisted of Ahsoka being proved wrong on the spot. "It's the Rebels! It's the _Rebels_!" The technicians below whooped excitedly.

Anakin inhaled sharply when in a flash of blurry light, twelve Rebel ships appeared from out of the black hole behind the Empire forces, giant hulls seeming to shrink the tiny cruisers on the spot. Ahsoka's jaw dropped. Rex gasped lightly. The others below them cheered.

"Here comes…Wait, is that _more_?" The force rippled with a boom, and Anakin knew the technician was correct in his stated question. There _were _more.

His brow furrowed with shock. Ahsoka stared out at the ships in front of them and her senses, as well, gawked at the ships behind. "Blast, is that the whole _Rebel army_?" Rex spluttered.

"It is! Wow, buddy, it's all our men!" All the armed forces in one place? For Ilum? "How did Master Yoda manage that?" Ahsoka gasped aloud, echoing his thoughts.

With her muttering the question externally, Anakin laughed, the answer obvious. "He sent Obi-wan!" he answered. A spark of mischief pushed past his exhaustion.

"Alright men!" he bellowed, fist closing about his saber. "Let's get these blasted Sith_ scum_ off this ship! I want it tidy as a kriffing _cubicle_ in here in two minutes!" he turned on his heel as he said it, lightsaber ignited and ready to scrap pile the retreating droid army.

* * *

~Ahsoka's POV~

Obedient to a fault, the clones, indeed, did have the ship tidier than any perfectionist's cubicle within the span of _one and a half minutes._

Which was a good thing, Ahsoka reflected as she watched the Empire cruisers drift quickly away from the defensive triangle of Jedi Cruisers now surrounding Ilum. Because she could already see the starfighters and ships heading their way, no doubt bringing with them the Jedi order and Rebel Council.

_ All of them, every soldier, clone and ship here, in one place. This goes against every military law ever made._ Then again, where the Jedi were concerned, she had often noticed that many laws were either ignored or discarded if they interfered with Jedi missions.

This, officially, was a Jedi mission.

"Ah, here comes our committee. Good, I see you've already cleaned up," Anakin observed as he walked up behind her, his eyes flicking to make sure everything was in its proper place.

He had, like she, ousted their old torn tunics and replaced them with the last clean ones they had left. Cannonball had also bandaged her shoulder, which stung lightly with pain.

Ahsoka suspected this new determination for cleanliness had more to do with avoiding a lecture on hygiene from Master Kenobi than personal opinion.

Anakin read her mind, and flashed a grin. "Hey, he hasn't let me forget my mechanics shop madness since we left, okay? I don't need another example for him to use in his ever so wonderful wisdom," he replied. Ahsoka chuckled and nodded in agreement. "If he asks, you said it, not me. Why is everyone coming aboard?" She inquired.

"To plan, Snips. We have to figure out our next move together since it'll be a team effort on the parts of all of us. I only wish me and Padme did not have to stand in the same room as the _council_," he lamented. Ahsoka tsked sympathetically.

No doubt the Jedi council would have their supreme eyes on the couple, already searching for misdemeanors and chastises prepared before the damage was even thought of being done. Sometimes the council was too harsh on Anakin and Padme, Ahsoka thought.

"On the bright side," she reflected, idly turning on the holo-projector to start it up. "I'll get to see some old friends. I haven't seen many Jedi since the start of the war," she reminded him. Anakin nodded, less enthusiastic as she was, but in agreement nonetheless.

"Well said, young Tano," a long forgotten but familiar voice replied, tiredly kind. "It's been far too long since I saw you two," Ahsoka twirled around to grin at Master Aayla Secura, standing in the doorway besides another Jedi.

"Master Secura! Master Luminara!" Anakin greeted cheerily, walking over to bow to their old friends. Ahsoka joined at his side.

"It's been a long time. Good force, Ahsoka, have you been _knighted_?" Aayla gasped, as they gripped forearms in a more affectionate greeting. Ahsoka had a place in her heart already reserved with Aayla and Luminara's names on it. They had both saved her and Anakin one time or another.

"She has. Stripped me of my authority, the wretched child," Anakin answered for her, shaking his head. Aayla smiled. "They all have to grow up sometime, I suppose," She sighed.

She looked years older than she had last time Ahsoka had seen her. Once the very picture of youthful beauty, now Master Secura looked twenty years older than her age, and her darkened eyes no longer sparkled with youthful sincerity, but serene exhaustion.

"You both look as if you have not eaten in days," Anakin observed disapprovingly. Both women gave tiny shrugs, unworried. "Is Jinx with you?" Ahsoka inquired, glancing over Aayla's shoulder. She had not seen her old friend in…Force, _five years_. Once Master Secura's Padawan, Jinx and she had been friends during the Clone Wars.

"He should be. I just saw him," Aayla replied, glancing over her shoulder. "You two need to eat," Anakin accentuated again, his attitude towards not eating getting the better of him. Having grown up a slave, her master was very strict when it came to having enough to eat.

"No worries, master," came a deep, rumbling voice. A second later Jinx came walking unto the bridge, and Ahsoka had to refrain from suddenly having a hanging open jaw. Jinx had…Er…_Grown._

In the past, when they had first met, Jinx had been a lean, gangly boy with a gaunt face and eyes darkened by pain and pessimistic wit always ready to retort, all bones, joints and twig limbs. Now, he was no longer that boy. His head-tails had lengthened; he was Twi'lek, like Intrepid.

Now, his once small chest was broad and clearly muscled underneath modest brown tunics. His back, once slumped, now stood straight as the lightsaber hanging on his waist.

He was tall, taller than Anakin even, and his gaunt face had an element of callous handsomeness that would fool anyone who did not know him into thinking his heart were as cold. Large black eyes had transformed into hard pools of unsympathetic nighttime.

"_Jinx_?" She gasped. His eyes traveled around, slowly, hard as rock. Yet they softened into remembrance when he saw her. His thin, flat mouth twisted into a rueful smile.

"Here," he replied, handing two pieces of fruit from the cafeteria to the two women. "I agree with Master Skywalker. You both need it," he said before they could object. "Good man," Anakin said with an approving nod, also surprised.

Before any of them could comment, though, a rush of headlong separated Jedi filed inside the room regally, like a tidal wave of some antediluvian noble dynasty. Immediately, a cocoon of old friends, glittering sabers, sweeping cloaks and amiable smiles encased Ahsoka.

The force danced around them, warm with radiant light, laughing with joyful relief. There was something heartening about being among your own again after months of war.

"Masters!" Ahsoka smiled as the Jedi council walked in serenely, and spread out into the assembly, greeting the remainder of their Order. Anakin ran up, grasping Obi-wan's forearms, grinning. She turned, chuckling, in time to have a hand grab her arm. She tensed reflexively.

"Hello, old friend," Intrepid greeted coolly, stepping from the mass to reveal herself. Ahsoka smiled back at her best friend, she bowed, deeply. "Intrepid," she greeted, as Intrepid returned the bow.

They straightened, and Ahsoka felt a burst of pride to notice again the absent braid. Intrepid had been knighted a few months before. Ahsoka remembered the celebration well, considering they had spent it on Naboo. "Have you seen Jinx?" she asked. Intrepid shook her head. "No. Have you seen Lux?" she wondered.

"Not as of yet. Oh dear, here comes the senate," Ahsoka pointed out.

Intrepid turned, in time with the rest of the Jedi, who had sensed the senators enter the ship. The gentle murmur of warm greetings and conversation halted, and they all fell eerily quiet. Outsiders were in the room.

Ahsoka exchanged a glance of amusement with Intrepid, the Jedi were_ still_ wary of politicians. The Jedi stepped aside, creating an aisle as the thirteen chosen Rebel leaders strode through the room, dressed no more elegantly than the soldiers for which fought for them, but somehow radiating gentle authority.

The exchange of authority plus power-talk and action- was slightly awkward in the force.

Padme, striding gracefully beside Bail, gave the Jedi quick smiles as she walked past, perfectly comfortable. The other senators seemed to notice they were outnumbered, and walked tensely, unused to being watched by so many pairs of frightening eyes.

"Do they always stare at people this way?" Mon Mothma leaned over to whisper in Padme's ear, glancing anxiously at the Jedi.

Carefully balled into a tight and nervous circle, the senate nestled on one side of the holo-projector with chins held high. There was one difference between this senate and the other. This senate was loyal to democracy, to justice, to freedom and they knew that the stakes were high and the chances low but they were willing to pay the price.

The twelve members of the Jedi Council settled on the other side majestically. The remainder of the Order stood around the holo-projector with poise, speaking none, faces expressionless. Ahsoka frowned; she could sense something…Off in the room besides the Senate's nervous fidgeting.

Right on time, the crowd behind them shifted and Lux squeezed her shoulder in hello. Jinx appeared behind them like a stone guardian, towering over the others, and gave Intrepid a quick nod.

Lux a cocked eyebrow of curiosity at her, with a small smile. Ahsoka returned the gesture and concentrated ahead, half suspecting that the Jedi were staring intentionally because they knew it was freaking the senate out.

_ Here we go again._

"We are here," finally, one of the senators, a human spoke clearly, with no definite challenge but with honest edge. "To save Ilum, I believe. So, let us hurry and finish the business so that we can go back to helping the rest of the universe," he began shortly. The accusation was unmistakable, yet it provoked nothing more than a handful of small, unapologetic smiles.

"The Empire, no doubt, will send reinforcements," Master Windu then went on, his cue for speaking having been given. "We must be ready to fight in all situations," his eyes rotated. "What does Sidious hope to gain here?" Mon Mothma wondered, her quiet voice heard throughout the room.

"The extinction of lightsaber crystals," Master Windu replied shortly, dismissing the issue with a wave of his hand. Chancellor Organa smiled bitterly, his eyes flashing.

Ahsoka shifted, her eyes searching the corners apprehensively. She could sense something terribly, horribly _off _in the room. As if they were all being watched by someone else. She looked at Anakin, whose face was thoughtful; he sensed it too.

"We will form a defensive perimeter around the planet," Master Mundi declared. A giant holo-map of the planet appeared, and petite triangles immediately surrounded the sphere on all sides.

"That will leave us on the defensive. Should we not go on the offensive? It would save us time," one of the senators provoked. "It would if we knew where they would be coming from," Master Shaak Ti agreed. "Yet, since we don't, we must defend all attackable quadrants," so, the entire planet, in essence.

"Don't we have spies to tell us those things?" Another arrogant tone piped in, sounding incredulously scandalized, as if he had been cheated out of his money.

_ No, senator, we have cats,_ Ahsoka thought. Intrepid and Anakin caught the unsaid sarcasm and flashed trivial smiles. "Our spies have so forth not reported any reliable intelligence of the sort," Master Koth told them calmly.

"What about the unreliable information? Will that be taken into account? It could be right, nonetheless," Chu-chi wondered. "Our largest fleets will go there," Obi-wan assured her.

"They could still attack the southern and northern hemispheres," Padme pointed out. "As far as we know there is nothing there to attack," that was the difficulty right now, wasn't it?

"What if there is one you _don't_ know about?" Bail pressed. _Then you can go find it yourself. Have fun freezing; _that thought floated out from Lux, who appeared displeased. He received numerous inquisitive glances from the Jedi around, but Ahsoka noticed none of them seemed to disagree. "We would sense it," Master Windu lied.

This was answered by knowing smiles from the Jedi. Lying was a useful skill. Padme, to Ahsoka's relief, stayed tactfully silent.

_Does anyone else sense that disturbance?_ Nava's thought floated frustratingly across the room. The Jedi did not react, but Ahsoka felt force signatures probing the area. There was _something_ there…

"AW!" Ahsoka jumped, startled half out her wits by the sudden voice. The Jedi and senators also jumped. "What was that?" Bail demanded, as blasters were suddenly whipped from underneath clothes.

_ They came prepared_, Ahsoka observed with surprise. Her hands fluttered near her shoto as the force was extended like a snapping rubber band.

"Hmm," Obi-wan mumbled. He looked up at the ceiling. All eyes followed, and behind the grills of the vent above, Ahsoka saw a shadow pass. _Oh, no._

"I believe I found the cause of the disturbance," Obi-wan announced calmly. Raising a hand, he snatched the grill off the vent above with the force.

Two small objects, with flying brown hair, tumbled from the ceiling. The senators jumped back like scared rabbits, and in the spot they had been lay two five-year olds, both urgently shaking out their clothes. The Senate gasped and the Jedi inhaled sharply as all eyes went to the pale faced parents.

"Kriffing_ sleemo_!" Was Leia's first word on board the Jedi cruiser, in full view of the Jedi and Rebel Councils. She was scrambling at her hair frenziedly, panic written on her face. "Vaping spiders! I _hate _spiders!" She growled.

"Here wait a minute, Leia! I'll get it out!" Luke hissed, his own hatred of spiders being pushed away in order to valiantly save his sister. With a swat of the force, two medium sized arachnids sailed out of Leia's hair and straight into the face of Chancellor Organa.

"LUKE!" Anakin roared.

"LEIA!" Padme boomed.

Neither of their children were paying any notice to them however, being as how their attention had been snatched by a diminutive green monster, whom they had not seen since their birth.

"It's _Yoda_!" Luke gasped, awestruck. He pointed; eyes wide with childlike admiration. Leia cocked her head. "He's shorter than I expected," she confessed.

Luke rammed an elbow into her ribs, still staring at Yoda, who likewise was staring at them, apparently at a loss. Ahsoka imagined this had never happened to even Yoda before. Obi-wan appeared half as if he wanted to strangle Anakin and half as if he wanted to laugh.

"Sshh! Don't say it that loud! Father says he has the force on speed-dial!" Luke hissed at his sister admonishingly. This was taken with more shock than the twin's sudden appearance.

"Speed dial?" Mace echoed confusedly. _"Speed dial?"_ The outraged question came from the Order itself, as they turned sternly to Anakin, who colored. "It's the only way I could think to explain it to them!" he defended.

Luke, at this time, tore his eyes away from Yoda to examine the other members of his Jedi comrades.

Upon catching sight of his mother, now standing directly behind him, and nearly_ aglow_ with fury in the force, his mouth made a small 'o' round as his eyes. He tapped Leia on the shoulder, who was still studying Yoda, trying no doubt to figure out what species he was.

Leia turned to see what he wanted, and upon catching sight of Padme, adopted an expression similar to Luke's. "Oh," she whispered.

"_Twins_…" Padme growled, looking or all the world ready to jettison them all into the vacuum's of space. Smartly, and with an immaturity that was no doubt associated with their still young age, the twins made a beeline for the door.

Ahsoka bit back laughter as Master Koth grabbed them both by the scuffs of the neck and held them off the ground, legs kicking furiously, abruptly apprehending them before they could escape. "And where do you think_ you_ are going, young ones? Running away, were you?" He inquired, severely.

"Obi says Jedi don't run," Leia informed him huffily, abandoning her defiance in order to cross her arms and commence pouting.

Luke sighed and screwed his lips to look displeased, as if _they _were the ones wronged, but taking it with dignity. "We make _graceful retreats_," she told them. Ahsoka heard a voice very much like Nava's let out a guffaw of laughter before she quickly covered it up.

Obi-wan seemed amused as well. He crossed his arms. "Yes, well," he accepted firmly. "I didn't want you to quote me, Leia," he told her.

"How did you two even _get_ here?" Padme demanded, marching up to the twins in a rare temper. Anakin, for one, looked as if he wanted to become dirt, suddenly.

"We hid in the supply boxes and stowed away on _The Twilight_," Luke told her proudly. "It was Luke's idea," Leia agreed, glancing affectionately at her brother.

"Where is Typho?" Padme demanded again. The twins exchanged worried glances, mouths firmly set. "Spill it!" Master Koth ordered, giving them a rough shake.

"Ow! Fine, fine!" Luke objected, casting Koth a dirty look. "You mess up my hair and I'll drop you into a rancor pit where your bowels can get slowly digested for a billion, billion years!" Leia snapped. "Anakin taught her that," Padme hastened to assure Master Koth, who did not appear flattered by the compliment, by any means. "What?" Anakin squawked.

"Anyway," Luke began again, peacefully. "We locked Typho in the closet," he professed to Padme. "You did_ what_ to Typho?" Padme's voice had risen twelve octaves by now, and she was so red-faced Ahsoka worried that she was in danger of having a cardiac arrest. "Don't worry! He won't starve!" Leia butted in helpfully.

"We gave him a cracker! And a juice box!" Luke added. "_One _cracker? What's one cracker going to do?" One of the senators asked, seemingly curious. "Leia calculated," Luke confirmed.

Leia nodded smugly. "If he eats a crumb a day, the cracker can last up to three years," she agreed with palpable admiration for herself. "How did you figure that out?" Bail wondered, his expression highly entertained.

Leia shrugged. "I used algebra," she replied as nonchalantly as if all five-years olds knew how to perform algebra. "That is _not_ the point! How could you…Wait, _algebra_?" Padme echoed. Her brow furrowed.

She looked at Anakin. "Did you teach them algebra?" She asked confusedly. "Padme, you know I can't do that complicated of math. I skipped all my math classes," Anakin reminded her logically.

"You _what,_ Anakin?" Obi-wan demanded, aghast. "Nothing, master," Anakin stated hurriedly.

"You skipped your classes?!"

"Ah, come on Obi-wan, I didn't skip all of em'! Just that one. I was only late to the others, and it was for the greater good,"

"The _greater good_?"

"Yes, I spent that time making…Er… Friends."

"Friends? What friends? You didn't have any friends!"

"I did so! It does not matter that it was in downtown Courascant, that homeless Twi'lek was perfectly nice. I learned a lot of stuff from him…"

"I knew there was a reason you knew where babies came from before I told you..." Obi-wan began.

"You weren't going to tell me! When I asked, you told me to go ask Yoda and when I did, he told me some nonsense about plants, and the universe, and the cosmic rays of beauty or something! So I asked the Twi'lek."

"You learned about sex from a homeless Twi'lek?" Padme asked, sounding scandalized and curious. "Garen told me he found out by hacking into the archive records and then blamed Quin-lan for it," Anakin informed her. Ahsoka sat back, enjoying this immensely.

"What did I tell you about listening to Garen? Besides, _his_ was for the greater good, from a certain point of view..."Obi-wan assured them calmly. "Oh, but my struggle to make friends _wasn't _the greater good?!" Anakin argued.

"No, because one: he was a half deranged, drunken Twi'lek, and two: you would have made more friends had you not scared the other younglings by telling them they were cursed by some Tatooine ghost or another."

"It wasn't my fault they were gullible!"

"Yes, but it _was_ your fault that they thought Master Bern was a demon from the underworld so you lead them in building a trap for him and broke his leg…"

"You laughed, you know you did!"

"That is not the point…"

"When did we get unto this subject?"

"_I _don't even know Algebra!"

"Are all Jedi like this, do you suppose?"

"This is not the current problem!"

"_Speed dial_?"

"Where're the twins?" Intrepid leaned over to whisper in her ear. Ahsoka looked over at Master Koth, who was engaged with Master Shaak Ti about the way he had found out about his own species reproduction system. He was so engrossed in this that he had not noticed his missing hostages.

"I have no clue. And Mr. and Mrs. Skywalker are also missing," she pointed out; noticing that Anakin and Padme's force signature had both vanished from the room, along with the physical entities themselves. Clever.

"They've gotten us into a world war," Lux whispered from behind her, in wonderment. She nodded and looked around at the rest of the room, which had broken out into either friendly disputes, cheerful conversations or laughing comparisons. Luke and Leia, despite their unwelcome and unexpected appearance, had loosened the atmosphere.

_ We've missed each other,_ she thought_. If we're willing to let ourselves become so distracted_. She chuckled softly and turned. Since no one else seemed to mind. "So, Jinx, how have you been?" She inquired. He gave a tiny half-shrug. "Eh, you know how it is-war," he replied without any emotion or personality to his voice.

"Hey!" Someone shrieked loudly. "Where'd the kids go?" Everyone turned to see the missing children. "And Amidala?" No answer. "Where is Skywalker?" No answer that time, either. For a moment, there was pure, shocked silence, the Jedi shocked that they had been bypassed so easily, and the senate shocked that they had become so easily sidetracked.

Then Obi-wan sighed. "That's the Skywalker's for you," he told them wisely, tiredly. They accepted this with general snickers of exasperation from Senate and Jedi correspondingly.

Then, glancing peculiarly to the other side, they began again to speak amiably, as if all they had known each other their entire lives; as if most of the people in the room did not possess impossible powers, or the other side overrated authority.

Maybe they needed this distraction; Ahsoka decided, this moment of reprieve and fellow connection- all of them, Jedi and senator alike.

After all, they were all fighting for a common cause. No matter the scruples between Jedi and senators in the past, they needed each other now. The force, after all, did work in mysterious ways.

It seemed to encourage this meaningless leisure, a rather odd and unprofessional way to begin a mission, but _effective_.


	6. Family court

~Dooku's POV~

_ War_. Count Dooku, no matter that he was now in his late sixties, had seen more than his fair share of war. He had been the cause of war, technically.

Yet now, watching this helpless parade of absurdity, he was not so sure if perhaps war was not just a mindless game after all. It made him sick that once he had been the cause of this mindlessness.

He remembered a time without war. It was ago millennia now.

Above, in a balcony above the great hall, he was witness to another battle, which had started out with a small fight, pitiless words thrown at one another, and now had spread to sabers being drawn against one another. Dooku sighed from above; his Sith _brothers _were gratuitous idiots.

Then again, they were also frustrated slaves to Sidious. The rebels were gaining more ground, more support. From a rebellion, they were now an army, almost as strong as the Republic's had once been. Sith had been dying.

After the fight with Skywalker a few months ago on Courascant-their own _headquarters_, for force sakes-the frustration had grown to mortified rage.

Even the holo-newsmen were making fun of their reign. Unacceptable, but uncontrollable while the Jedi yet grew and defiance yet lived.

Ilum was a tactic to tear the Jedi's last bit of resolve away. Dooku had suggested it himself. He knew how much those dusty old caves and ice-cracked planet of insignificance would mean to the Jedi-how dearly they would fight for their history and culture above all else.

It was a ploy to tear the Jedi apart from the heart, but that was what he had told Sidious., In truth, it was also a method to bring The Sith _together_.

It was so forth failing.

_ We are starving,_ he reflected when he heard the grumbling of his own stomach. Most of the Empire's money had been wasted on the refunding The National Bank of Courascant.

They still had no clue who had stolen the money, but the culprit was yet to be found, and the people had demanded to be decompensated. Their demands, in order to spare _another _costly war against their own citizens, had had to be met.

Then the cost of refueling ships, building new ships after they were either destroyed in battle or more often than not stolen, the cost of borrowing droids from the Trade Federation, the cost of maintaining war prisons and all of the other ventures they were involved in had thoroughly depraved the Empire. So, the Sith had to fend for themselves. Food and supplies were scarce.

_ Too_ scarce, this madness had been induced by hunger, exhaustion and frustration. Dooku was frustrated himself, yet too old to engage in these lightsaber brawls.

Or, added, to stop them. So he watched merely, hoping that Sidious's new war weapon would work. They needed a major victory to keep themselves together.

_ The past is repeating itself; _he romanticized. _We are destroying ourselves, the Jedi need not do anything more. _That was highly annoying, that without even fighting or trying, the Jedi were destroying them. They were winning, and they were just as deprived as the Sith.

_ "Destroyed themselves a millennia ago they did. If rise again the Sith ever did, destroy themselves again they would,"_ Dooku growled and pushed the voice away.

It was becoming too common for it to appear at his weakest times now. His self-induced madness was coming, and with it memories of a time that he denied ever existed.

_ Get out of my head, Yoda._ _You are no longer my master. I am no longer one of your fool Order._ He heard a small, high-pitched chuckle in the back of his conscious, in some hidden corner of his mind, his fists clenched when an ember of longing rang deep in his soul.

It was too late to turn back now. He did not want to turn back. The Jedi were wrong, they were the immoral ones. He had been right.

_Fooling who are you, Count Dooku?_

"Silence, you old fraud!" he ground out, slamming a hand down on the banister so hard it shook. The fighting below intensified. Someone dropped dead, and screams of rage broke out. The voice retreated, but Dooku heard it chuckling as it went.

"Idiots!" he hissed, not sure if he meant himself, the Sith below, Yoda or the force itself. "Stupid, lackadaisical fools! You are only repeating history!" The Dark Side even laughed at their torment, jeering amusedly at their ignorance, how they suffered and wept internally, it laughed at his _madness_.

Cloak swirling about his ankles like a thundercloud, Dooku turned on his heel and walked away from the fighting.

Only the force, both light and dark sides of it witness as he sunk slowly into insanity, and the rest of the Sith only drowned in their own destruction. One side laughed and the other wept, but they both watched, and waited for it all to end.

* * *

~Anakin's POV~

"They still won't come out of the vents?" Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes to see Nava Venerate standing over him, an amused smile in place and hands set on brisk hips.

Her braided black hair swished over her shoulders lightly, moving always like an undulating ocean. Chocolate skin hid giant blue/purple eyes in their depths, which shined with liveliness.

Anakin fought back the smile trying to reach his face and shook his head. "And I can't get them out with the force without either destroying the vents or hurting them," he answered. "Bruises heal," Nava reminded him heartlessly. Anakin gave her a dirty look; _not helping._ "On the bright side,"

Nava knelt beside him, leaning over to fix his collar absently. "The council won't be able to scold you for awhile; the entire Order is in there reminiscing, your children quiet loosened the atmosphere," She told him.

Anakin failed to see how that helped him, but humored her anyway. "Senators and Jedi _getting along_? You're kidding," he replied. Nava shook her head, pleased that his collar was satisfactory. "No, I am not. Nevertheless, where is Padme?" She asked.

Anakin jerked his head to the door at his side. "Inside, demanding the twins come down. I pointed out that those negotiations don't usually work on Jedi younglings, but she insists she can reason with them," he told her.

Nava cocked an eyebrow. "She does realize that these are _Jedi _younglings we're talking about, doesn't she?" She wondered. Anakin shrugged. "I tried to tell her," he agreed. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Did_ you_ teach them algebra?" he demanded. Nava snorted. "Ani, you know I can't do anymore math than you can. If it has to be that complicated, I'd rather just blow whatever it is in question to smithereens," she snorted.

"They're five, are they supposed to know this stuff? I thought youngling's brains didn't develop fully until….Later," he pointed out.

"That's true. The brain doesn't stop developing until they get into their late teens, and even then I think it grows some more, or turns around or some other nonsense like that. Don't ask me; I relied on Bant for science. Comprehension is what needs honing in most cases, and they are two of the most powerful children in the force the Order has. You know we comprehend things faster," she said. Anakin groaned; why hadn't anyone warned him fatherhood would be this hard?

Suddenly, the door next to him opened and Padme walked out, looking worn out. "I give up," she declared, sinking down next to Anakin on the floor. "They won't come out. What are we going to do, Ani?" She asked.

"About what?" Nava inquired cheerily. "The fact that your two children are aboard the very ships scheduled to go into battle, or the Council which is surely going to _grill _you for this?" She asked.

"Both," Padme replied, in a sigh. She rested her head on Anakin's shoulder, and he could tell she was more frustrated than he was. He found the twin's escapade quite funny, actually.

"Well, the council was bound to grill you anyway, and I'm not sure what to do about the twins. Though when they come out from the vents, you'll have to send them to polishing clone's armor," she advised. Anakin cringed; that as a rather harsh punishment. He had polished the arm piece of Rex's armor once.

It had taken him three hours to get it even_ remotely_ shiny.

"An _excellent_ punishment is that, Master Venerate," came a gnarled voice. Anakin cringed and stood as Master Windu, Yoda and Obi-wan walked into view, faces unyielding any information. Anakin touched his bond with Obi-wan, and recoiled when he was met with a bland wall.

Padme stood at his side. "Where're the twins?" Mace inquired evenly. Nava helpfully took a step back, allowing them the stage. Padme glanced venomously at her abandoning friend and cleared her throat.

"They're um…In the vents still," she replied. Yoda placed both hands on his walking stick thoughtfully, and exchanged a glance with his other two council members.

"I hope you two realize they can't stay here," Mace pointed out, mildly. Anakin felt a tendril of amusement in the force. Were they_ enjoying_ this? "We do," Padme agreed.

"They don't," Anakin sighed, jerking his head to his private quarters, where he could sense Luke and Leia still residing inside of the vents. "And what will we do with them masters? We can spare no ships to send them back," Nava pointed out from the background.

"Or any chaperones that would indeed make sure they get there without anymore trickery," Obi-wan added. Yoda pursed his lips and glared at Anakin as it were his fault.

"Hmmm, amazing amount of loyalty and bravery have they shown, coming here, aside with unconventional methods," he grunted. "See no reason why observe and help they cannot," he harrumphed.

Anakin was taken aback, what had Yoda just said? "I see the problem with it!" Padme objected. "They're _children_!" She nearly shouted. Yoda took this dilemma with grace befitting his title.

"Jedi are they," he also added. "He isn't meaning for them to fight, Padme," Obi-wan tried to soothe her. Anakin commended him for bravery. "We mean for them to watch and learn. We would send them back if we could-but we can't. You know this. So we might as well put them to something useful," he negotiated.

Padme sighed, and Anakin put a hand on her shoulder. They had wanted their children to grow up relatively normal, at least by their standards.

They had not wanted Luke and Leia to feel the enormous pressure of succeeding, surviving, or have to lose their innocence at an early age as Anakin and Padme had themselves. Yet Luke and Leia deemed that it would be so despite their feelings on the subject. "It's the only way," he pointed out.

Padme let out a groan of frustration and rubbed at her neck absently. "Fine. _Fine._ If _you_ can get them down from the vents," she accepted the bare and quite unfair truth of their lives, which was that they were Jedi; awareness had cursed them long ago, and had followed up on its promise through the next generation as well.

Without answering, the Jedi Masters swept into the room confidently. Anakin and Padme followed them curiously. What would the masters do? Nava stayed in the doorway, bodyguard for the two fond escapees.

"Luke! Leia!" Obi-wan called in his infuriatingly 'I'm not yelling but my voice will catch your utmost attention anyway' voice. Anakin remembered it well.

A petite head peeped around the exposed small hole. "Hi, Obi!" Leia replied with a friendly wave and giant grin. Anakin's heart melted, as it always did when she flashed that dimpled smile.

Did he ever twist himself around his mother's finger like Leia did his? "Get down from there please," Obi-wan replied, without any real threat or promise.

Leia did not seem to want to think about it. She cast an incredulous glance at him and Padme, both glaring, and decided for outright defiance. They had much to learn.

"No," oh, she had _so _much to learn. One did not just say 'no' when Obi-wan asked you anything besides a strictly yes or no question. It was just not done. "It wasn't a request," Obi-wan pointed out, unconcerned.

"It was an _order,"_ Windu agreed, scowling at the defiance. Not disrespect, Leia was not that type of person; it was never disrespect, only insubordination. Luke appeared on the other side, and promptly fell to staring at Yoda again. "What do they want?" he inquired sleepily, with a yawn.

Anakin stared; had they been _sleeping_ up there?

"They're ordering us to come down," Leia snorted, propping herself up on her elbow and looking own with an air of almost boredom. "Oh," Luke smacked his lips, debating.

"But that doesn't seem like too much fun," he pointed out. Anakin resisted the urge to guffaw in laughter. The masters did not seem either surprised, displeased or amused.

"Would it seem more fun if we locked you in there and turned the heat on?" Mace wondered. Anakin stared at him; wondering if he was serious. "What would that do?" Leia asked, unconcerned. Luke's lips screwed into skepticism. "If they did that, it would get really, really hot in here and the air would get stale and we'd suffocate," he guessed.

"Indeed," Obi-wan agreed. Leia sat up, surprised. "But we would die!" She pointed out. "Of course you wouldn't," Anakin piped up, seeing where they were going. "We'd just wait until you fell unconscious and then pull you out," he said. Luke and Leia's eyes went wide.

"That's unfair play!" Leia gasped, scandalized. "It's also unfair play to hide in the vents instead of facing your opponents face to face," Obi-wan pointed out, mildly. "Cowardly, it is," Yoda harrumphed, thumping his stick down firmly. This affront to their integrity and pride hammered the twins into anger.

"Hey! We are not cowards!" Luke screeched. "Yeah, we're Jedi! Jedi are brave _warriors_!" Leia informed them indignantly. "Warriors don't hide in vents," Padme pointed out.

"Nor do warriors lock people in closets," Nava called. "Or hideaway on ships without permission," Mace finished. Luke and Leia set their mouths stubbornly, but Anakin could feel their guilt in the force.

"We just wanted to help save Ilum," Leia mumbled. "You've put the mission of Ilum in grave danger, instead of helping it. It was impulsive, thoughtless, and arrogant," Obi-wan informed them, and Anakin heard the slight _just like your father_ echo in the force.

The stubborn lines dissipated into guilty scowls. "It was a mistake," Luke tried to explain, his bottom lip puckering. "And what do Jedi do when they make mistakes?" Nava called over, mercilessly ignoring the puckering lips.

"We fix it," Luke and Leia mumbled in unison, eyes downcast. "Really? Or do we try to _hide_ from our mistakes?" Mace inquired; the hard edge to his voice still there.

"Jedi don't hide from anything," Leia bit back, with one last spark of insolence. "Then Jedi you are_ not_," Yoda decided sternly. "Until learn to take responsibility for your mistakes and think before act you do. Younglings do these things, not Jedi," he told them severely.

Luke and Leia stared at Yoda with an understanding beyond their years. Without even sighs of reluctance, they crawled from the vents and landed on their feet before the masters, eyes downcast and hands folded meekly before them, heads bowed.

"Wise," Obi-wan consented, merely. "Now," Mace began, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. "You two will spend the rest of the week polishing all the Artoo units in the hangar bay until they _glow,_ do you understand me?" He demanded. "Yes," Luke and Leia mumbled dejectedly. "Yes _what_?"

A shared glance, a spark of knowing that had never been spoken, but by force-born intuition known. Both sets of waists curled in the middle, as deep a bow as any temple-born youngling. "Yes, masters," they corrected. _I don't believe it,_ Anakin gawked.

"Good, dismissed you are, _younglings,"_ Yoda sent them off with a wave of his hand. Insulted, reprimanded and scoured of all struggle, the twins hastened to run off to the hangar bay and redeem themselves.

The second they were gone, Anakin let out a deep breath in unison to Padme. "Force, I can't believe it," he gasped. "Neither can I," Padme agreed.

"Well, believe it. Because for your deserved punishment, _you_ two will be polishing all the ships in the hangar bay until they glow," Obi-wan told them pleasantly.

Nava burst into laughter as Anakin and Padme gawked at him. He could not be_ serious_… "It will be a family effort," Mace agreed ironically, crossing his arms obdurately. They _were_ serious.

"What? _Us?_ But that's not…" Anakin began, only to be interrupted by Obi-wan cocking his head, eyes burning into his own with over a decade of authority that should have been cut when Anakin's braid was.

"Anakin," Obi-wan warned. "But Obi-wan…" he whined. He was not a youngling anymore; Obi-wan should not be able to…

_ "Now."_

But he was. He always would be. Anakin huffed, defeated, and nodded. "Yes, master," he mumbled as he started out the door. Padme was flabbergasted. "What? You're going to give up that easily? I'm…" She was likewise interrupted by Nava.

"Padme," Nava snapped. Padme jumped, unaccustomed to Nava's brusque master tone, and gaped at this sudden turn of events. "You can't be _serious_…" Her voice trailed away into oblivion when she saw Nava's face.

_ "Now." _

And Nava was able to do it, too. Did they all just attend some sort of chain of conventions on how to make grown people feel like younglings? Padme's lower lip stuck out, much like Leia's had, but she nodded.

"Okay," she mumbled meekly, and followed Anakin to complete their shared punishment. After all, the spokes of authority had not changed with time, though much else had.

Through the door, he heard the Jedi masters laughing.

* * *

**_ Later:_**

~Leia's POV~

Leia groaned pitifully, eyes closed and face contorted into pain. Pain to which the others were selfishly oblivious. "HA! You guys were sent to clean the_ ships_? Justice, sweet ironic justice," Ahsoka laughed at her father, clapping her hands with approval.

"The droid thing was rather spiteful," Intrepid argued compassionately, as she took Leia's aching, throbbing, burning hands between her own and massaged the fingers.

Leia hissed in pain and fought back tears. Jedi did not cry, nor did they _whine _over their punishments. They accepted it.

But that did not mean she could not whine over her fingers, stiff and immobile after the day spent polishing Artoo units. They had not even gotten more than four done between her and Luke; and they had used the force.

_ I don't like Obi anymore, _she thought spitefully.

"Those are unworthy thoughts," Intrepid scolded firmly, brows thundering with disapproval. Leia ducked her head, face burning in shame. Why did everyone seem to know what she was thinking here?

"My hands hurt," she grumbled. "Had you two not stowed away on my ship they would not hurt," her mother called from the other side of the room, where Ahsoka massaged her fingers.

Lux was wrapping Luke's in warm gauze, and Leia felt Luke's bright flare of pain shoot over to her from the force. She hissed with him, not denying the free flow of their emotions or obstacles. They took pain together. They shared everything, thoughts, feelings, loss and love.

Sometimes Leia even thought they were one in the force. One force signature opposed to two different ones like father and mother suddenly became sometimes at night when they thought she was asleep.

"Sorry, Luke," Lux-Lux said, with a cringe of his own. "She has a point though. My hands are burning," their father growled, his own face set into grim determination as he massaged his real hand with his mechanical one.

Leia had always loved to play with the switches of his mechanical hand, though father did not show it often. She did not know why; she loved his hand.

"We met some more clones today," Luke offered by way of conversation, trying to sound cheerful. Leia refused to sound anything but grumpy when her fingers hurt this badly. "Did you?" Intrepid inquired. Luke nodded. "They told us stories while we worked," he explained.

Leia giggled. "Funny stories," She added. "Like what?" Their mother asked curiously. "Like the time farther blew up that base on Alderran and a piece of metal got stuck in his backside, so a nice lady had to use her…"

"Wait a minute!" Their father burst out urgently, as their mother's head perked up curiously. "Her… What?" she inquired, eyes suddenly taking a dangerous edge. Leia narrowed her eye at Soka, who seemed to be choking rather hard.

"Nothing, Padme, only…Obi-wan! Are you ready to get thrashed in spar?" Their father suddenly declaimed, hurrying to pin something on the traitorous condemner. Obi-wan cocked an eyebrow, interrupted from his conversation with Nava.

"Padme found out about the time you kissed that Wookie?" he asked sympathetically. Their father went paler than usual. Their mother crossed her arms in her, 'I mean business posture' but for some reason her lips were perking up as she did so.

"You kissed a Wookie?" Lux-Lux laughed. "That wasn't what we were talking about but thanks for telling everyone," their father grumbled, not meeting any of their eyes. His face went a dark red color. What was it called? Hmm…Crimson! That was it. Crimson.

"Oh," Obi replied with a smile of apology. He turned to them. "Did you finish polishing the droids?" he asked. Leia glared at him. "No," she grumbled.

"We only got four done. And look at my fingers, Obi! _Look at this_, its an …An…An outrage! They hurt like Hutt slime and slaver nose!" She told him firmly. "Hutt slime and slaver nose?" Nava asked walking in.

She strolled over to their father and took his hand in hers, massaging. He glanced up at her with a weird look on his face, but he was smiling.

"What have I told you about listening to your father's slang?" her mother demanded. "I don't say slaver nose," said father. "Hmm," Obi took one of Leia's hands in his own and studied it.

"What have_ I_ told you about pain, Leia? It can be accepted and let go into the force. Or just plain tolerated, once you get used to it, that is. They'll stop hurting in a few hours. That is how it will be with your sabers as well," he explained. Leia and Luke, at the sound of lightsabers, perked up.

"Really?" Luke asked. Obi nodded and smiled. "Oh, yes. You'll practice and practice with your new saber hilts until your hands ache, but in the end, they'll get used to it and then you won't be able to go anywhere without your saber," he told them.

"For fear of getting a lecture from Obi-wan about responsibility and inattentiveness and negligence, and- ow! Nava that hurts!" snatching his hand away, father glared at Nava, rubbing his red-tinged palm with a hurt expression. Leia giggled; Obi was never wrong.

"So polishing droids will get us ready to get our lightsabers?" Luke asked, excitedly. Obi grinned. "From a certain point of view," he agreed.

Leia looked at Luke, beaming. They were getting ready for their sabers! It wasn't so much a punishment as it was _practice_!

"Come on Luke!" Leia cried, lunging from Intrepid's arms to the ground. "We gotta go polish some more!" She told him energetically.

A Jedi had to work for _years_ to get ready to go down to Ilum and get a crystal, so why hadn't Leia thought that this could be practice? "Yah!" Luke said, following her. " Luke, Leia- Where are you going?" Padme called.

Wasn't it obvious yet? They had to go practice! "We have to finish polishing the droids! By the time we're old enough for lightsabers, we'll be able to practice all day and it won't hurt at all!" Luke explained over his shoulder. Before anyone could say anything to this, they had vanished out of the door and into the hall.


	7. To battle

**_Two days later:_**

~Sidious's POV~

"Your plan is going perfectly master. The Jedi are all in position outside of Ilum," Darth Vader informed him without any emotion in his cybernetic voice.

Dear Vader had lost the ability to impose emotion into speech after Mustafar. "All the Rebel forces? You are_ sure_?" Sidious snapped. He did not want a single person, any last clone not there at Ilum.

He wanted to destroy them all.

"Positive. Our spy is to be trusted; he will not fail me. He has a family to think of, after all," Sidious could not very well argue with that, now could he? Love was such an easy way to manipulate. "Good. Send our fleet without delay," he ordered.

"And the Death Star?"

"We will wait until the time is right," he assured his eager apprentice. "Now go. Make them_ suffer_."

"Yes, master."

* * *

~Obi-wan's POV~

"Do you concede?" Anakin gasped, centimeters away from his ear. Obi-wan, squirming underneath his bombastic friend, and breathless with laughter after their recent tussle, was no more intimidated than if he were fighting Dooku. Nevertheless, he still did not like it when Anakin did this to him. It was playing _dirty._

"Of course not, youngling! Get off me!" he ground out, pinned down but undefeated. "I'm not getting up until you concede the fight. You're not that old and I'm not that stupid," Anakin replied. "Opinions may vary on the latter point," Obi-wan huffed.

In retaliation, Anakin smacked him behind the head. "Don't talk back to me!" he ordered, his very voice sounding of held-in laughter. "Just give in already! You can't even see me," he pointed out.

This unreasonable point was unfortunately, very true. Anakin, sometime during the time when Obi-wan had been crushing his stomach with his elbow, had hidden his force signature.

Thus, Obi-wan truly had no clue where Anakin had been, and that made it relatively easy for him to be attacked and pinned down beneath crushing weight. Now, cheek pressed to the floor and Anakin's breath misting the skin of his neck, he was persistent still.

"I can still give you a run for your money, my foolish young friend," he replied. "Still? You gave me a run for my money a few minutes ago! Can't you hear that thumping? That's my vaping _heart_, you barve. And it's not nice to make people laugh when they're trying to beat you up, you know I get confused," Obi-wan snorted in some laughter of his own.

"What confused you? The earwax or the fricassee?" he inquired. "Shut up!" Anakin replied with a barked laugh. "Did Qui-gon really put earwax in the…?" he asked.

"He did," Obi-wan shivered at the memory. Their hosts had_ not_ taken kindly to that one, and Obi-wan distinctly remembered sleeping outside in the pouring rain for his master's mischief.

Anakin chuckled softly in his ear, seeing the memory. "Oh, force. Knock it off, I can't think straight now. What's your name again?" he asked playfully.

Obi-wan grunted, finally going still underneath the heavy compactness of grievance named Anakin. "Sexy man number four," he replied.

That did it. Anakin burst into sufficient laughter that it was relatively easy to grab his arm and throw him off Obi-wan's back. He stood smugly, as Anakin curled into a ball, laughing himself to tears.

He placed a boot on Anakin's chest victoriously. "I'll take that as a full surrender," he assumed. Anakin, purple-faced, shook his head. "Force. Force," he appealed, hand gripping his side desperately.

"You know…You can't just…Spring things like…That on me, master. You're going to kill me one of these days," Anakin griped between laughs. "No worries on that regard Anakin. I'm relatively sure the force has already decided that _you_ are going to be the death of _me_," he reminded his young friend.

"Oh, gosh. How did you come up with that one? Man, Obi-wan, you got me. You win. Now help me up…Ah, my side is going to be sore for weeks," he complained as Obi-wan grabbed his outstretched arm and hauled him to his feet.

"That is your own fault for playing dirty," Obi-wan scolded him. "_My_ fault? _I_ was playing dirty? You sprung earwax, fricassee, and sexy man number four on me, and you think I was playing dirty?" He gasped out. Obi-wan chuckled.

"I think I've been around you too long," he observed. "I guess so. I wish someone would have been around to hear you say that, no one is going to believe me when I tell them," he said.

Obi-wan shook his head happily and trotted over to the bench, swiping his sweaty forehead and chest with a towel.

"A reason why I reserve my uncouth attitudes for you, brothen," he chirped. "Whatever, master. I suppose that's a compliment in your own warped, twisted way," Obi-wan was about to demand just how_ his_ view could be considered warped or twisted when Anakin was the suicide flyer, but he was interrupted by the force. Through it, the distinct drums of war began.

Anakin sensed it too. Grimly, all trace of playful competiveness vanished, replaced by a general. "Rex," Anakin said into his comm. Link.

"Are the twins with you?" he asked. "Yes, sir. Did you know that they know where the word green came from?" Obi-wan cocked an eyebrow.

_He _didn't even know here green came from. "That's great Rex. The battle is beginning. Escort them to my quarters and then_ lock_ them inside when you get there, got it?" He ordered.

Rex's flash of vanished humanity was heard through the comm. Link. "It will be done sir. I'll prep your fighter too," he said before he hung up.

Anakin looked up, and though his expression was swathed in a sea of force written whiteness, Obi-wan knew it was grim. Here began a war for something that was akin to justice itself. Ilum.

Their chosen battlefields would be different, they always had been. Their battlefields were a tribute to themselves. Obi-wan's would be on the bridge with the clones, strategizing, controlling the politics of war through wise intuition, honed knowledge.

Anakin would be in the space outside, flying, commanding, charging towards the goal, winning the battles through cunning initiative and natural talent. Defense and offense, peace and war. They clasped hands, brother to brother.

"May the force be with you," as it always was, but miracles were needed as well, sometimes. Sometimes the force wasn't enough; Qui-gon and Shmi had proven that.

"And you," with a final nod-for what else needed to be said between brother Jedi?- they ran out of the practice room and into their selected battlefields.

* * *

~Bail's POV~

Bail had been inside many control centers, and he had seen many battles-not many space battles, admittedly, but many crusades. At the same time, he had never in any of those battles, seen the same efficiency as he witnessed executed now. In the midst of chaos, the Jedi had brought some semblance of order.

Not enough order to keep the ships still apparently. Bail clung to the nearest securely bolted down device he could find as the ship jolted with coming fire-blasts.

The clones seemed unworried and detached, so much so that if they were not calling out information and status reports to General Kenobi every two seconds, he should have thought they'd slipped into daydreaming at their stations.

Outside the giant plasma protected windows, explosions of fire and metal added to the labyrinth of closely linked starfighters, clone fighters, vulture droids and Sith starfighters. From Bail's position, it could have been merely an all out game of tag; it looked like.

Padme appeared at his side, expression dead calm, but he noted the sleek shine of sweat on her brow. Her husband was out there somewhere.

Bail imagined if it were Breha out there fighting in that great maze of dying men and exploding casualties and shivered. Thank goodness his wife was not Jedi.

"So far we're at a deadlock, sir," Admiral Yularen reported to Obi-wan, though the Jedi was standing right next to him, watching the battle with as much detachment as his clones.

_How can you do that?_ Bail thought, watching his friend, whom he had seen smile and scream, laugh and cry.

Staring at him now, Bail was almost sure that these words and actions were foreign to the Jedi. It looked as if nothing could unsettle him, not even when a clone, having been ejected from his fighter, crashed into the viewport windows, both legs torn from his body, mouth opening and closing in a desperate gamble for oxygen in airless space.

Then, airless as space was, he detonated, and blood spattered all over the window, blocking their view. Bail inhaled sharply and Padme cried out, shocked. Obi-wan, the admiral and the clones did not seem disturbed.

"That's it," Padme decided, her voice trembling with revulsion. "I won't just sit here while this happens. Obi-wan, what can we do to help?" she demanded.

Obi-wan did not turn as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. His unblinking eyes (why is it he never seemed to blasted blink?) did not stray from the scene. Finally, he pointed at the holo-projector, which several clone technicians were huddled about.

"Keep an eye on those Sith cruisers. We can't remain in stalemate forever. Sooner or later either we'll need a plan to make them back down or they'll have a plan to make us back down," he strategized.

Bail and Padme hurried to do his bidding, huddling with the murmuring clones near the projected battlefield. "I think they're moving forward," Padme muttered, eyes tracking the small starfighters as if trying to find Anakin's.

Bail nodded, his heart thumping in his ears, the tense adrenaline in the air slipping in to fill his veins. "But why?" He asked.

He knew enough about military tactics to know that you only moved forward if you were advancing upon a retreating enemy, advancing anyway to try to intimidate the enemy, or…Making room for reinforcements.

"Sir! More ships coming out of hyperspace!" In his daze, he heard a clone call out. "Well, they're certainly not ours," Obi-wan predicted, without any scruples in the face of this fact. "How many?" Admiral Yularen barked.

The clone who had announced it squinted at his screen, and suddenly paled. "General…" he gulped, shaking his head slowly, as if trying to bring himself out of a nightmare.

Obi-wan nodded grimly. "It's the entire Imperial fleet, isn't it?" A simple nod accompanied this canny deduction: and then a combined inhalation from the clones.

"Well," Obi-wan observed, lips screwing into pert discontent. "_This_ should be interesting," not the word Bail would have used, but it sufficed. "What are we going to do?" Padme inquired.

"Something tells me we're going to need a different plan," Admiral Yularen considered as…Darn, as _several _dozen Imperial ships flashed into view behind their enemies. "Indeed, Admiral. Cody, patch me in to Master Yoda," Obi-wan ordered thoughtfully.

* * *

More than twenty reviews already, wow! I certainly wasn't expecting that. Well, let me be the first to thank everyone who supports my stories, and to answer some questions.

1. If you'll bear with me everyone eventually the other Jedi _are_ going to find out Obi-wan is blind. I won't tell you when, but I can guarantee its going to be awesome.

2. I'm afraid that if I were to grant Anakin and Padme another child the universe might just explode, followed closely by Obi-wan's brain. Thus being, Luke and Leia will remain their only children, but not to fear, soon enough other children will join the Skywalker family.

Again, I appreciate everyone who takes some time to review, critique or scold, its all as good as gold to me!

~Queen Yoda


	8. The stories are proved untrue

~Luke's POV~

Luke hated being stagnant. At home, he always had something to do, an adventure to begin, a way to be helpful. At home, though, the force did not feel like this.

The force did not feel like…Like hot and breathless and suffocating things. Like death. Like feral animal fear and survival.

It made Luke want to run and hide away from the emotions he felt, from the sounds he heard and the scenes that flashed across his mind from the force.

Yet he could not hide: Jedi did not hide and it was purely impossible to hide from the force. He had thought that the force was his friend, but it was attacking him from every side with rotating emotions and images of the warfront that made him shiver and whimper.

He was starting to regret stowing away on mother's ship now. _Maybe this is our punishment from the force,_ he thought. _Maybe it's mad at us for being naughty._

He wanted to ask if Leia thought so, but he could not raise his head without assaulting migraines. He hated this feeling. He cringed as another person died; Luke did not know them, but he felt as if a piece of his heart died too.

_ What's happening to me?_

"It is not like this in the stories," that voice, silent, so far away, prompted Luke to look up despite the headache. Leia was sitting across the room from him, arms wrapped around her knees, back to the door, sweat rolling down her face and strands of silky hair stuck to her face because of it. She felt it too.

Her eyes were black in the dim light of their father's small room. She stared at him solemnly, and he felt something powerful, something not dark, but not genuinely light either, stir around them. Leia had always been darker than he was.

"What?" He asked. Leia did not look away. "The stories. It's never like this. And in the games we used to play with my dolls and your tin-men? It was never like this. The Jedi are supposed to win and have victory, the Sith are supposed to run from our light, in fear of us. They aren't supposed to fight back. People aren't supposed to _die,"_ She whispered. Luke nodded. "But they are," he reasoned. Leia sighed.

"We should not have come," she agreed. Luke sighed as well and settled his chin on his knobby knees. _"I'm hit! I'm hit! I'm going down…Argh!"_ He cringed as he heard the clones last words and then…Nothing. Had it been Rex? No, Luke knew Rex's voice. But it could be. It could be Rex; or Soka or father next.

He shuddered and let out a sob. He didn't want this anymore. He had not wanted this in the first place. "Do you member when Obi died and we felt it?" He asked Leia. She nodded; eyes sunken in with the horrors of what they could feel and see. This was_ torture_.

"I knew Jedi could die…But I didn't know it would feel like this. I didn't know it would hurt," he confessed. Leia nodded slowly, her eyes darkening, hardening. Then, grumbling in disgust, she staggered to her feet.

"Come on," she growled. Luke stared at her, wondering how she had gotten up. He had tried that a few minutes ago and discovered that it not only made his stomach rumble but nasty stuff slither up his throat.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "Somewhere we can help. Do you remember how to fix and refuel a starfighter?" She asked. Luke nodded, hesitantly. "Sort of, if depends on what kind. Father said I was too young to know too much," he replied.

Leia staggered over and grabbed his arm, hauling him up viciously. "Good. Come help me into the vents. We 're gonna go help," she told him. "But Rex said…" Luke began as Leia walked underneath the vents, which had been _double_ screwed back in.

She glared at the grill. "Boshooda to what Rex said. Jedi help people," she reminded him firmly. "Jedi _younglings_ obey the adults," Luke added.

"Stay here then if you want. But I'm going to go dig out Threepio and Artoo and then we're going to help save Ilum," Leia interrupted curtly, grasping the grill with the force and tearing it away.

Luke could feel their father's tone hard resolution around her, the air sparking with ferocious light, hot blood, an heart that was thumping with adrenaline. She was energy, heat, life. And life fought back.

He nodded; they had never been apart before, and stood. Leia watched as he stumbled over to her and grabbed her shoulder, ignoring the fear that shot through him to her and back, like a static jolt.

"I've got your back," he did not know what that meant exactly, but he had heard Soka say it to Trepid and Lux-Lux to Soka and Nava to Obi and Obi to their father and their father to their mother. So by the force, it had to mean something important.

Leia nodded, unsmiling and together, they hopped into the vents.

* * *

~Intrepid's POV~

_ Inhale. Exhale. Peace, the force, harmony, breathe.  
_

"Hold him down Lee," she told her helper firmly as the patient underneath her grip groaned and cried out. The medical clone pressed down on private Benxi's arms more firmly, his muscles bulging with effort of holding the thrashing man down on the surgery table.

Intrepid watched him calmly, ignoring the twist of her insides. Among her many other talents, force healing had come quite in handy.

"Be still private," she commanded, pressing his shoulder down firmly. The agonized patient stared at her with glassy eyes filled with panic and pain.

"I can't help you if you don't calm down, do you understand? Be calm, still, it's alright now," She soothed tenderly as her fingers skimmed over his bare torso, where skin had been lacerated by shrapnel and scorched by fiery blasts.

She called on the force, at wait beside and inside her. Healing took no sides or strengths; it only required compassion.

"My ma," the private gasped out. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. "Have to get home to my ma. She can't do it herself. My ma!" he cried, before he began thrashing, in some delusional dream. Intrepid was once again reminded that these men had left their homes and families to take up arms against the Empire.

It was as ultimate a sacrifice as giving one's life. It was chivalrously foolish, dauntingly heroic, forbiddingly brave. She wiped a tear from the young human's face, and nodded. She understood the need.

"You'll get home," She promised, though she was not so sure if he would get home in one piece or several pieces. As if dunking her head underwater, she closed her eyes and immersed herself in the sea of the force.

The screams of the men faded out of existence, want and need, reason and exhaustion discolored by the maddening determination to _heal._ To bring back together the tiny strips of fabric imbedded in every living organism.

She would _fix_ what the force created; here there was a tantamount difference between survival and life, purpose and function.

The skin melded with its brethren like hungry lovers, creasing, amalgamating, taking her strength and making it its own. _"There is no chaos, there is harmony," _the living body was like a battlefield itself.

Bacteria, infection and the forces of germ and virus fought against the natural defenders of peace and justice inside of the body's perimeter. Intrepid cloaked herself in the force and joined in a fight very different-yet all too important than the one that had injured this man. It was life and liberty both, but in this war, there was no such thing as death, only the force.

* * *

~Leia's POV~

"Mistress Leia, I do not think this is a good idea. Why, what would your mother say?" Threepio wailed, horrified, as they raced through the halls of the resolute. The ship hook with another blast, and they stumbled against the wall.

"Quiet, Threepio!" Leia replied, why did he keep talking? She looked down the two adjacent halls. Luke skidded to a stop beside her, Artoo and Threepio on their heels.

"Where do we go now?" Luke asked. Leia frowned, and inhaled deeply. How was she supposed to know? Who did she look like, Obi?

_ There is no ignorance in the force,_ he would have reminded her, and despite the pain creasing across the force, inside her heart, spreading hot fire in her veins, she reached out to the force for guidance anyway. Her faith was rewarded.

"The hangar bay," she whispered, infused with purpose, with a wholesome independence that had nothing to do with her but the force itself._ So this is what power feels like,_ she considered as she and Luke bounded down the halls.

Now that they knew their destination, the path was easier to navigate. Behind them, the measly army of droids ambled after, beeping and complaining the whole course through.

Finally, having run faster than even the force, Leia bet, spurred on by the lives they felt lost, Luke and Leia found the hangar bay. Like the stories, it was not what Leia had anticipated.

Ships loaded in and out of the docking bay, some half smoking, others depleted of fuel, some with dead pilots. Maintenance clones scurried about; putting out fires and droids scurried with the heaving heavy boxes of ammunition and fuel. It was a battle-zone in itself.

"Good heavens!" Threepio exclaimed, alarmed. "Well?" Luke wondered, glancing at her. "Do you have a plan?" She glared at him. Of course she did not have a plan yet. That was usually mother's job.

Suddenly, a clone fighter rolled in staggeringly, and the top popped out of place. Black and acidic smoke arose from inside the cockpit, along with the pilot, who staggered out. He was coughing and ash-streaked.

Leia felt his injuries even before he let out a last hacking cough and fell to his knees. "Found a plan," she told Luke, who had already begun running over to help. Leia dropped to her knees next to the clone.

Leia gasped as she recognized the face, it was Rex! "We have to get him out of here!" She snapped at the clones filing about.

"Someone go get me a toolkit. His fighter is reparable," Luke ordered as he ducked underneath the smoking ship, Artoo beeped an affirmative. "Are you okay, Rexster?" Leia asked of the groaning clone.

The spoken too man blinked his eyes open, and they settled on her dazedly. When he saw her, he did not look very happy. Leia took this as an insult. "Leia! What are you…?" he began.

"Are you okay?" Leia repeated, interrupting him. "Twins! What are you…?" Fives began, his eyes widening when he noticed her.

"Um, here you are…Sir. Do you need anything else?" Fives snapped around to see Luke quickly messing with gears under Rex's fighter. "Yeah, go get me a kriffing juice box," Luke commanded.

Leia grinned; her brother was in his mechanical-genius zone apparently. She turned back to Rex, who was gawking at Luke with dilated eyes. Leia sensed he was about to black-out. "He's a little Skywalker," he whispered.

Leia did not know what this meant but decided it was to be taken as a compliment and his previous transgression (she loved that word) could be forgiven.

"Rex," she grabbed him by the shoulders. "Tell me what it is I should do," she beseeched. Rex seemed to have trouble focusing on her. "Skywalker's…Going to kill me," he mumbled.

Leia shook him; this was no time to focus on the future! "Later, Rex! Later! Snap out of it! What can I do to help?" She demanded. Rex stared at her, blinking rapidly.

"Need to get…reinforcements," he gasped, and then with a groan, went limp. Leia frowned over him. How was that supposed to help her? She could tell that they needed…

The ships! That was it!

"Fives!" she called behind her. "Leia you shouldn't be here!" Fives answered. Leia stood up. "Get Rex out of here, got it? And then bring me some gloves, goggles and a welder and a welding…Thingy…Whatever they use," she ordered. Fives stared at her as if she were as crazy as Dooku. "Leia?" Luke asked. Leia grinned.

"Hey, Luke, what did those ships out of the old Republic history book look like?" she asked. Luke stared, his brow crinkling, one of which was smeared with grease. "Like a bird…" Luke answered hesitantly. "Can you help me draw it?" she asked. "Sure. Leia, what are you…?"

Leia only waved her hand. "No time! We're going to make a birdie!" She interrupted. Fives stared long and hard at her face. She glared back, praying to the force. Finally, seeing something Leia liked to think was her father's on her face, he threw up his hands and turned to do her bidding.

"Fine! Whatever! You wanna get me court marshaled and executed, _fine_! I guess it's okay. I'll get your tools, but when Skywalker comes to kill me I hope you feel bad," he grumbled.

Leia only grinned. If her idea worked, no one was going to get killed.


	9. The Rescue Bird

~Anakin's POV~

"What in the name of the almighty _force _is that thing?" Anakin was wondering the same thing. He stared out of the window of his starfighter at the incredibly large flying object jetting through space. It looked to be a mixture of gunships, fighters and storage boxes.

It was also in the crude shape of a giant bird.

The metal underbelly, which seemed to be the gunship/storage box part of the bird, was almost so immense Anakin was sure it must take up about half of an entire hangar bay, which was roughly the size of fourteen pod-racing tracks.

The birds head had two enormous eyes where Anakin could see clones dashing about inside.

The wings were a combination of gunship branches as well, and the small torpedo holes and blasters all around the perimeter spoke of clone fighter weapons.

Every time a ship would explode and a clone begin to fly out the bird would open its jaw and catch the clone or pilot inside safely. Anakin stared, wondering what in all the force it was.

"Does anyone know where that came from?" he asked into his universal comm. link. "Is it on our side?" Master Shaak Ti added.

"We haven't been able to contact it. I don't even think it has a transmitter," Master Windu told them.

"It has clones inside. And it's saving our soldiers," Obi-wan pointed out. "But who made it? And what is it? It could be an Imperial trick," Bail told them.

"I don't think so, sir. It came from _The Resolute_," Nava said from somewhere inside a cruiser. "_My _ship? I didn't authorize that!" Anakin exclaimed, shocked. "Neither did I or the Admiral," Obi-wan agreed.

A stunned silence, where all possibilities were considered. "Well," Bail sighed at last. "I suppose we'll just have to wait. For the moment, consider it an ally. Could some Jedi protect it?" He asked.

"I'll keep an eye on it, Chancellor," Anakin promised, his curiosity getting the better of him. Somehow, he felt this had the feel of his own ingenious resourcefulness combined with Padme's wide-reaching intelligence about it.

* * *

**_Three hours later:_**

~Sidious's POV~

"Master? We have a problem…" Sidious sneered at the useless report, he was well aware. He was staring at their _problem _through the windows.

"A new invention by Skywalker, I presume," he growled, his admiration and hate for that man rising to a temperamental degree.

He would have to kill several people to work this anger off. Too bad he was surrounded by droids.

"I do not believe so master. That…Bird has the makings of the Old Republic rescue ships. Skywalker is no historical scholar," Dooku pointed out blankly.

"True, my apprentice. Who then made that atrocious contraption? It's saving their troops," before Dooku could put in his opinion to the problem, Sidious began again.

"I want it shot down," he ordered. "We have tried, master. It is rather difficult. Someone skilled is piloting the ship, as big as it is. His or her skill is something no clone possesses. It is a Jedi in control of that invention,"

Sidious sat back, drumming his fingers anxiously. "Are all Jedi accounted for?" he asked. "So far as we know. Our spy assures us that the Jedi not found in starfighters are all on the bridge of their cruisers," Sidious had half a mind to contact their spy himself and demand a status report.

"Very well. Recall all fighters and redraw our ships Darth Tyrannous. Until we know who this newborn originator is, I do not want our droids in combat. So find out with all due haste. My revenge is _impatient_," he commanded.

"Yes, my master. It shall be done."

* * *

~Padme's POV~

"It's coming in for a landing," Bail observed as they emerged into the hangar bay, filled to the brim with clones and fighters all arranged oddly to accommodate the disembarking mystery ship. For some reason, the clones were cheering, relief and admiration clear on their faces.

Padme looked up at Obi-wan, who was staring at the ship inquisitively. Two Jedi starfighters, holding Anakin and Ahsoka landed skillfully at the side of the bird, which had parked tail first.

The tops of their ships popped open and Anakin surfaced from the cockpit; eyes trained on the ship as if it would open up and show him jewels.

Ahsoka emerged from the other side, hands on her sabers. From the wide and metal backside, a hatch suddenly started to lower.

Padme looked up into the insides of the ship, and was shocked to see several patients rolled out on medical beds, in deep sleep and their scars mostly sewn up.

The clone medics followed, aprons splashed with blood, but they were grinning from ear to ear. The clones and volunteers rushed forward to grab the injured, still cheering loudly.

"_Force,_ Padme," Obi-wan gasped, laughing. "Do you have an adventure ahead for you! Imagine their teenage years," he tittered. Indeed, just then, came two five-year-old twins on the shoulders of Captain Fives, waving gallantly at the large crowd below.

"Cheers to the Skywalker twins! All hail the tiny heroes!" The crowd screamed, waving and applauding her children.

She exchanged a rueful glance with Anakin, who grinned back at her and hopped from his starfighter, all questions answered. Padme approached as Fives carried them down. Luke and Leia looked up, and Padme saw them both waver with tiredness.

"Luke, Leia," She began. "We know, we know," Luke sighed as Threepio came bumbling down the ramp with Artoo on his heels. "It was impulsive, thoughtless, and arrogant," he assumed.

Padme cocked an eyebrow at Anakin, who was grinning wider than she had ever seen him. Ahsoka was shaking her head slowly, arms crossed and amazement glinting in her eyes.

"It wasn't what Jedi would do, but younglings. We'll go to the room now," Leia agreed, as they slid off Fives shoulders, ready to face punishment. Fives glanced up and gave them an alarmed look.

"Sir," he said to Anakin hurriedly. "You shouldn't punish them. Without this scheme sir, dozens of people would have been killed. If it's _anyone's_ fault, it's mine…" he started to say, until Anakin gave him a significant look. "It's true!" Another voice rang out from behind them.

"Yeah, don't punish them, general!"

"They saved us!"

"They're good kids!"

"It's our fault, not theirs!"

"They're _heroes_!"

Anakin, Obi-wan and Ahsoka exchanged glances that meant something Padme could not decipher.

"Alright, alright men!" Anakin called over the growing shouts, waving his hand to quiet them. The clones and pilots lapsed into an anxious silence, apprehensive for the sake of their little commanders.

Padme chuckled softly, pride seeming to make a cavity in her chest and expanding until she could feel nothing else but love and pride for her twins.

"Whoever said anything about punishing them?" Anakin demanded into the thick silence, his own eyes twinkling with tears of absolute pride and love. Luke and Leia looked up, shocked. "We're not in trouble?" Leia gasped. "But we disobeyed orders again!" Luke protested.

"Yes," Anakin agreed, exchanging a glance with Ahsoka. "But there are times when a Jedi has to break the rules a little and follow his instincts. Not all the time, but sometimes. You two saved _lives _today, you did what any Jedi would do," he praised. Luke and Leia gawked at him, shocked that they were receiving no punishment.

"And we are _tremendously_ proud of you, babies. Come give me my hug," Padme ordered, crouching down. Squealing with joy that they were being praised instead of condemned, the twins ran into her arms delightedly. P

adme squeezed them to her chest, sure her heart was breaking. Force, she loved them so_ much_. They were perfect, utterly, peerlessly perfect already, filled with light and generosity like their father.

Anakin knelt at her side as the clones below broke into more cheering. He was laughing softly as he tousled Luke's hair and plucked Leia underneath the chin. "You two are little genius's. We ought to Knight you right now," he said.

"Certainly more imaginative than I ever was. This bird is _incredible_," Obi-wan agreed, walking over to study the resourceful machinery. Bail followed; eyes as wide as saucers. Anakin snorted at that.

"No arguments there. Come on then, we're going to go brag now," he invited. Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

"I thought Jedi were supposed to be humble," Leia said, turning to him with a sleepy grin. "We will thenceforth humbly boast," Anakin conceded with a laugh. Leia nodded in agreement and laid her face in the crook of Padme's neck. "Okay, fatha. Maybe after a nap," she muttered.

"Uh, huh. Don't start without us," Luke mumbled, his own large eyes closing in exhaustion. Padme hugged them close and chuckled softly. "Hey, Ani?" she asked softly as he swiped a bit of hair from Leia's smiling face.

"Hmmm?" He inquired, warm eyes set on their slumbering faces with affection. "How did we get so lucky?" She asked. Anakin looked up, and Padme saw the same tears in his eyes that she knew were the cause of her own blurred vision.

"I have no clue, angel," he reached over and kissed her on the forehead. "I have unquestionably no clue," he said. Padme rested her head on his shoulder, holding their slumbering twins close.

"Then again, master," Ahsoka considered philosophically from behind them. "In my experience, you never do have much of a clue about anything."


	10. Peace at a price

~Ahsoka's POV~

"Cannonball, prepare and refuel the fighters. We've a long fight still ahead," Ahsoka ordered aloud to the clone suddenly walking at her side the second she had landed back on her own ship _The Hope_.

Walking from her starfighter, already flocked by maintenance clones, Ahsoka hurried back to the bridge. There was still work to do, despite the long fight and the weariness in her very bones.

"Yes, sir. By the way, General Camber contacted you," _Intrepid._ Ahsoka did not stop, nor allow any emotion to leak unto her features. "Is she alright?" She queried lightly; heart picking up gradual speed in the seconds before his answer. That was her _best friend_.

"Yes, general. She reports that also the others are safe as well," Good, Nava and Lux remained unscathed. Ahsoka could not say the same for many of her men, though the twins had saved dozens of lives with their ingenuity.

All the same, Intrepid and Master Luminara would have their hands full healing tonight.

Meanwhile, Ahsoka had battle strategies to form for the next assault, and men to see safely into rest, a report to give to the no-doubt already waiting Jedi council and the thoughtful rebel council.

"Very well, thank you Cannonball. After you fulfill your duties, make sure and get some sleep, alright?" She advised wisely, glancing at her first in command.

Cannonball gave her a tired grin and bowed his head slightly, somehow his huge form emitting an air of humbleness with additional grace.

"I'll do that, sir, thank you. Oh, and I nearly forgot, General Zadya is on board," Ahsoka inwardly started with confusion.

Jinx on board her ship? Why? "Is he injured?" She inquired with a hint of worry. "I don't believe so sir, He's merely…Here," Ahsoka was not sure how she should react to this bit of news.

She had spoken all of four sentences to Jinx since meeting him again, and the sentences they had spoken to one another during the clone wars had often been arguments, on account of Jinx's pessimistic outlook on life and Ahsoka's stubborn audacity to tell him this.

"Very well. Thank you for informing me, Commander. You are dismissed," she said, with a wave of one hand. With a final nod, Cannonball walked off to perform his remaining duties.

Ahsoka sighed and turned, peering down the sparsely crowded halls to wonder about a million things at once, foremost being a shower, then the unexpected guest she had aboard her ship.

Hands set characteristically on her hips, she swiveled her feet to handle the first dilemma, and then she would see about entertaining her unforeseen company.

Later:

By the time Ahsoka exited the fresher and began walking the halls once more, they were near to teeming with clones running about, repairing, communicating, and doing their daily duties with the grace of DNA bred efficiency.

She smiled resignedly, ignoring the internal knowledge that her body needed respite, a rest that her mind refused to give.

Ahsoka patted her twin lightsabers fondly and inhaled the singing force, present even in the desolate fields of space and after the aftermath of the light side's principle sin: the destruction of life.

Letting it settle and strengthen dry reserves of energy, she tracked the lustrous force signature, unhidden and undaunted. Jinx had never been one to let fear rule him; nor unease.

In the end, he was in the one place where no one else was; the briefing room. Of course. The light from the halls suddenly brightened the dim room as the door slid ajar smoothly.

Standing next to the holo-projector, hard eyes set on the star-charts before him was Jinx. Ahsoka wondered what she could say.

She did not have to say a word; Jinx spoke first. "Our casualties were not as high as they could have been," he pondered, not looking up.

Ahsoka glanced at the saber at his waist, and nodded, remembering a time when his waist had been bare. Having been kidnapped as a six-year-old initiate by Trandoshan hunters, Jinx had spent ten years with O'mer and Kalifa on the island, tracked and hunted the entire time.

She had brought him and O'mer home, but Kalifa haunted them all; she had not been the sort of person you can easily forget.

"I agree. Our little friends and their bird paid off," she observed. Jinx nodded absently. "Dear me, I wonder what the council is going to say about that," he muttered with a familiar dryness that could have caused a heat wave on Hoth.

"What can they say? The twins saved lives," Ahsoka pointed out. "And if the…Er… Rescue _bird _hadn't worked?" Jinx inquired, his voice was not threatening nor condensing, it was not even curious, but a monologue of no particular interest.

"Jedi do not dwell on the what if's," Ahsoka reminded him, moving from the doorway to settle at his side. The access panel skimmed closed, and once more, they were bathed in darkness.

A ghost of a smile slithered around Jinx's mouth. His eyes brightened for a split moment before returning to the dullness of before. "I suppose you have a point, _Master Tano,"_ he replied.

Ahsoka bristled underneath the emphasis, and promptly retorted. "I do say so, _Master Zadya_," she hissed back.

Jinx chuckled darkly and slowly circled the projector. Ahsoka was tired of beating around the bush. "Jinx, why in the galaxy are you on my ship?" she demanded.

"Ah," Jinx nodded, and crossed his arms. Ahsoka studied him in the dim blue light. From this angle, he could have been underwater, and a mourning fish at that. Why did he look perpetually bothered and mournful?

"A good question. I was wondering when you would get around to that," he replied. "Why didn't you say so, then?" Ahsoka demanded, slightly irritated now.

She had too much work to do to stand here and bandy words with him. Jinx gave a nonchalant half-shrug, unawares or uncaring about her annoyance.

"I wanted to see how long it would take you," he answered mildly, some impish sparkle gaining way into his voice afloat his accent, distinct to the rocky mountain ranges of Ryloth and the indigenous people there.

"We haven't spoken in awhile, and currently _talking_ isn't my best area of expertise. You've changed much, old friend," he reflected. Ahsoka glared, not sure if she should be amused, flattered or just plain irritated.

"You stowed away on my ship and engaged in useless small talk to see if I was still the same?" She demanded. "Well, we barely were compatible when we were Padawans. I was not sure if we'd be able to hold a steady conversation more than a minute and a half as Knights," he pointed out logically.

Ahsoka nodded in sudden understanding the unspoken phrase: _"I wanted to see if I could still get along with you, or if you'd drive me to the Dark Side with your presence within five standard seconds," _and crossed her arms, gazing at him from across the space. He still had not looked her in the eye.

"I'd say we're holding a steady conversation," she observed lightly. "It depends on how you depict the word steady," Jinx snorted. Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Why isn't talking your area of expertise any longer?" She changed the subject.

Suddenly his eyes, hard to begin with, melted like a glacier with sadness. "Didn't you hear about O'mer?" He asked softly. A shiver of apprehension blazed down her spine.

She leaned forward on the console; O'mer had been like a brother to Jinx, they had spent _ten years_ together, fighting the Trandoshan's for their lives. Even she had sensed the strong bond on them, the unbreakable cords of brotherhood that had compounded them together as one, instead of two.

"I have not," she said softly, watching his face. Jinx sighed and shifted uneasily. The force around spiked with lapsing grief for a split second, and then died away to leave the slick _frost_ of Jinx's force signature once more.

"He was sent on a mission to retrieve Empire military tactics on Dantooine. That was two years ago. When the council hadn't heard back from him, they sent a team to find his ship, when they got there…."

Jinx leaned forward, setting trembling fists on the console, lips firmly set while his face remained in a deadlock with his raging emotions.

Ahsoka exhaled slowly, feeling the deep tension in the air, how Jinx was battling against the force, which strained to pour the truth into him.

"They only found the wreckage of his ship on the planet's surface. His cruiser had been shot down by Imperial troops. No one survived the crash," he explained softly.

Ahsoka bowed her head a moment in respect for the friend she had lost. O'mer had been a good man, and a kindhearted Jedi. She only wished she had heard of it sooner.

"Are you alright?" She wondered in a whisper. Jinx screwed his mouth into an even more severe and stubborn line. "There is no death, only the force. He is free," he answered with perfect Jedi restraint.

"Yes," Ahsoka agreed calmly. "But are _you_?" There was a stricken silence. Finally, Jinx looked up, and his eyes caught hers.

For a moment they held, opaque ice under scrutiny from bottomless radiance. Anguish wracked flames getting their first glimpse of the old healing waters he had once known intimately but had now abandoned him to mourn.

The force whispered in her ear that nothing happened by coincidence, Jinx was here for a reason, yet he knew not the reason himself. She did. O'mer had been his brother, his partner, his best friend, his other half.

What did you do when one-half of your heart leaves you empty and abandoned? The same thing she had done when Master Plo vanished into the force; you find a new piece of heart.

"There is no emotion," Jinx said softly. "There is peace," he recited hollowly. "There is no peace," Ahsoka shot back, holding his eyes steadier than any conversation they had ever had. "Without acceptance," she told him. Jinx favored her with a rueful grin.

"True enough," he managed. "Though I don't remember you as the most _devout _follower of the code-or authority in general for that matter," yes, well. Things had happened.

People had died. She had lost some things and gained more wisdom in return. The wheels of time had turned; she had changed. "As you have said: I've changed," she replied stoically. Jinx nodded in understanding. "We all have, I think," he agreed.

Ahsoka sighed. "Come on, I'm famished, and by the laws of hospitality have to feed your trespassing self," she called over her shoulder, walking past him. Jinx chortled softly and followed her.

"You're taking _compassion_ on me now? Force, you have changed," he grunted. Ahsoka punched his shoulder. "Not_ that_ much, Jinxy-boy," she shot back, using his old nickname.

"Remember that," she told him. Jinx gave her a smoldering look, rubbing the sore spot on his arm peevishly. "I don't like being told what to do, sunshine," he retorted, with a smirk and a gallant bow, also using an old nickname that drove her to distraction.

Ahsoka glared. "You know what? For that, you're getting the _poisoned_ ration bars," she told him contemptuously, strutting past. "Not to worry, I shall be sure to switch them with yours," Jinx replied sourly. "You know what, you…You… scruffy looking _nerf herder_…"

"Who are you calling scruffy looking, your _royal highness_?"

"Who else? I don't see any other half-witted ruffians in the area,"

"I do, there's a certain spy slash pirate walking next to me, and she's _bossy_, too. Such an unattractive trait in a lady, whatever shall we do with you?"

So, they argued, bickered and drove each other to madness all the way to the cafeteria, and beyond that still. After all, in the end, peace came at a fighting price.

* * *

~Nava's POV~

Battle always took something from her. Something deep and internal, it left Nava overwhelmed, for with battle came the mirroring affects of the after battle, were she felt the pain from the wounded, the tiredness of the volunteers, and the contained morbid sadness from the clones and Jedi. She felt all of it, as if it were all her own.

Their pain brought back memories. Memories of a young boy, half a man, and a lightsaber through his chest as he leapt to shield her…

Or of a humid, airless swamp where a great woman died of exhaustion and torture…Then began the thoughts, the insistent nagging wonder of _could I have saved them?_

Jedi training dictated that those feelings were wrong, incorrect, destructive, but they were human. After battles, Nava felt very much human, not even close to being Jedi and as such, very vulnerable.

That was the reason she went to Obi-wan, secretly of course.

Silently, shoulders drooping, spirits dark and unpromising, she walked into his small quarters. Her eyes traveled over the modest and clean surroundings, everything appeared shadowed and calm in the dim light.

At the desk sat her man himself. He did not turn when she walked in, so engrossed was he by whatever it was he was listening too off his data pad.

Fluidly, his large hands crafted spiraling words on the data pad as he listened, his brow scrunched in concentration. She sighed, desperate for release and closed the door behind her.

Obi-wan cocked his head at the noise, and a small smile lit his face. Nava tried to smile back, but it must have come out as a grimace. Obi-wan took out one earphone, his expression worried, as artificial eyes fell away to reveal blind pupils that sometimes saw too much.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Nava nodded and pulled a second chair over, tiredly. "I dislike war," she replied to the obvious. Obi-wan studied her thoughtfully a moment. After said minute was over, he nodded understandingly.

"We all do, Nava. We all do. Come take a break," he invited. Nava nodded and straddled her seat beside him. Obi-wan once more focused on the work before him, and his swift, exact movements mesmerized her.

Nava watched his hands, large, tendon knotted skeletons, with skin so fair she could see several large veins, bulging and life-filled underneath the thin layer of flesh. Scars crisscrossed his hands, and calluses from hard work and fighting.

To an ordinary observer, Obi-wan did not appear to have worked harder than lifting a sheet of paper in his life. How appearances could deceive.

Nava sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes. The force was awash with emotions, with loss, grief, pain, horror, rage…She inhaled sharply, determined to keep her sanity, to remain strong while everyone around her succumbed to the effects of battle and war. _Release, release…_

But how could she release emotions not her own? How could she accept and comprehend things that came from not inside sources but outside tomfoolery? So many emotions…

Nava could not find her own in the disorderly disarray in which she drowned. In her lap, her fists clenched.

She was a master of the blasted Order; she should know this by now. She should _know _this. Where was she in this great labyrinth of people? So many people and reactions, yet her own were belittled and lost.

No self, no future, no past, no heart or soul. Just a mirror…Mirrors could break, mirrors could _shatter_, glass was fragile, and had to be forged by fire and tongs.

She had not realized she was whimpering softly. Her eyes opened, and without feeling, Nava knew her cheeks were wet. She let out a sigh, disgusted with herself, or maybe by someone else.

She did not know. It was hard to find who you were when constantly you were feeling for everyone else, with everyone else and _flooded _by everyone else.

"Ah, my dear. You really must stop lowering your shields before a battle," Obi-wan sighed sympathetically. Nava opened her eyes to see him staring at her with concern. She shook her head and looked away.

Obi-wan did not care. Removing his earphones, he walked behind her and started undoing the single plait she had devised out of her braids.

"It makes me _sick_, Obi-wan," Nava muttered, fists clenching on the back of the chair. "We are Jedi. Unnatural death alone makes us sick. You must begin strengthening your shields again before battles, Nava," Obi-wan scolded softly, as her braid was untangled. He ran a hand through long braided tresses. Nava shook her head. "I won't," she scoffed, defiant.

She would never stop letting the emotions come. Sometimes it was her own personal warning of a death. She could save people if she could feel that flash of panic before an explosion.

The growing alarm of a failed starfighter. If she could feel those emotions, she might get there in time. Like she hadn't done with Annex, and Kapli. She had let them down. She refused to fail another person ever again.

Obi-wan rested his large hands on her shoulders, exasperated. "You're impossible," it was spoken with affection, though, and admiration. "I know," that was a lie.

What_ did_ she know? At the moment, blaring, grieving pain made it a bit hard for her to recall anything of her own, knowledge included.

"Relax. The feelings may be someone else's, but while you are harboring them, they become yours. Command and exile them, Nava," he instructed, as if she were a youngling again.

As if they were younglings and he as helping her study for a test. Easy days, full of mischief and laughter…Why did he need to remind her of such moments? Those times were gone. War was their life now; service had become their mistress, and justice came in when it could.

"To release you need acceptance, you need an_ anchor_," she growled back, too exhausted to fight with him about this.

He did not _need_ to teach everyone all the time… "What do you suppose I'm here for? Breathe. I will help you," he whispered, squeezing her shoulders.

Nava exhaled slowly. "I can do it myself," she reminded him. "I know. The only stipulation with that is I don't intend to _let _you do it by yourself. We will face the emotions together, as one. Allow me to ground you with me in the force, and we will release together," as one.

As a team. Yes, teamwork, it did not always have to be _alone._

Strength and peace were earned at the side of another, occasionally. Certainly, the two titles were dance partners, two fingers from the same hand, like the fish living in the anemone.

They sheltered one another, and with one came the other. It was merely a matter of finding one and then holding them both, because like all dance partners, they could come apart.

"Very well," she stood, and turned, letting her freed hair swish around her shoulders. "Let's do it," he nodded and sat on the ground. The ground was always best. For they were the force's lowly servants, and when they called upon it, they called on their knees.

She let her hands drift into his. He held them as if they were delicate and fragile flowers given into his keeping, dutifully loose, ready to release at the order, but still close and warmed.

This was love, not attachment.

Then, they bowed their heads and inhaled deeply, calling on the force together, once more pledging themselves to a thing unknown but present.

Hearts, minds, bodies, lives…They all belonged to the force. It swirled around them, lifting spirits beyond gross matter in its tumulus oceans.

They were stones, being thrashed about in the murky depths; yet Nava knew that in this grand sea, they would emerge smooth.

She clung to Obi-wan's force signature, a soothing beacon of light and confidence swaying gently on the bottom of the sea. Nava grasped herself to him, and slowly exhaled, releasing, laying her breaking heart out as an offering.

A Jedi had nothing to give but his heart, his soul, his life, his service. In the outside world, their lightsabers rose in unison, and began disassembling, the force filtering through every minor crack and swelter in the weapons-in their lives- to cleanse and renew the vibrant blade back to life.

She was a mirror, mirrors could shatter; and they could also _cut_. They could reflect light, love, the truth. Emotions swept over them, violent waters in horrible rebel, but she and Obi-wan remained nestled at the bottom, two river stones being smoothed by the vicious attacks.

And hours later, she would be glowing with committed life and nourishing shine, like a freshly polished and cleaned mirror.

After all, in the end, peace came at a fighting price.


	11. Speeches and espionage

~Anakin's POV~

"How you doin' Rex?" Anakin wondered softly, careful not to disturb the other patients in the room. Captain Rex, who had been staring blindly into space, turned to look at him with somnolent eyes.

Despite this, his captain still gave him a feeble grin. "Fine, Skywalker. I just got out of the bacta tube. I'll be good to go tomorrow," he replied.

Anakin put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it," he said sincerely.

"Who won the battle?" Rex asked. Anakin sighed and sat back on his haunches, crossing his arms. "Metaphorically? We did. Strategically, we're at an impasse. The Empire has only backed off; they're still there, plotting. The council, no doubt, will have a new plan for the next tussle," he explained.

Rex gave his bandaged shoulder an experimental roll. "Hopefully, it's something clever and complicated. We can't keep this up forever. How many casualties?" How many brothers did he have to mourn tonight.

Anakin shifted positions. "We haven't finished counting. Though, not as many as could be. Did you see Luke and Leia in the hangar bay?" He inquired. Rex's head snapped up in horror that reflected in his eyes.

"The twins!" he gasped. "Stars, yes! They were there, even though I locked them in the room. Are they…?" He looked up at Anakin anxiously, concern crinkling at the side of his deep brown eyes.

Anakin found his worry touching. The clones had helped raise the twins as well, though the five year olds couldn't always tell them apart. "They're fine," he assured Rex.

"I'll….Well, I will tell you the entire story later. But they're both fast asleep and unharmed. Their ingenuity is actually one of the reasons why the casualties are so low," he explained. Rex cocked his head in question, but before he could ask it a third person joined their circle.

"That is actually the reason I came to talk to you, Anakin," at his name, Anakin twirled, still wired in defense mode. He relaxed when he saw his company though.

"Master Windu," he said cautiously, with deep bow. Despite the fact that he could earnestly call Mace Windu his_ friend_ now, he was well aware that friends or not; he was still dealing with a Council member, and currently his place in the council's regard was rather low.

It was not the same as dealing with Obi-wan, who preferred to keep the council in one place of his heart and Anakin in another. Mace noticed his hesitancy and smiled kindly, dark chocolate eyes igniting with liquid warmth.

"Relax. I came to inquire after your twin's health, the scolding will come at the entire council's behest," he assured him. Anakin nodded; here roles did not matter apparently. "Both of them are fine," he said again. "Exhausted but unharmed. I'm proud of them," he grinned roguishly.

"They could have been killed," Mace, pointed out, taken aback by this evident fact. Anakin nodded, inhaling sharply. Those words gave him an unpleasant shiver of terror.

"Yes," he agreed, merely, weakly. "But they saved lives. Jedi do not dwell in the what if's," he reminded his friend. Mace cocked a curious eyebrow.

"Wonderful," he chirped. "I'll be sure to remind you of that the next time you need it," he remarked. Anakin came very close to rolling his eyes. As it was, he crossed his arms.

"That makes you, Obi-wan, Yoda, Ahsoka, Padme, Intrepid, Nava…Oh, and the rest of the Order," he sighed. Mace found this hilarious. He let out his seldom heard booming laugh, so out of place in a medical ward that it made several people jump. He clapped Anakin on the back companionably.

"We only criticize because we care," he told his younger counterpart. "About me or the prophecy?" Anakin inquired, slyly. Mace's eyes glinted with amusement at his assumption.

"Do we seem like we care much about extinction to you?" he wondered, waving impassively around the room, where troops, Jedi and others sat injured and wounded in a fight that had taken more than any other.

"He has you there General," Rex piped in, seeing the point with a certain light in his eyes. Anakin smiled begrudgingly, something in his heart easing a bit. "So he does. Get some rest Rex. I'll come check up on you later," he ordered. Rex nodded, obedient to that one command with ease, and laid back down.

Mace and Anakin worked their way free of the medical ward. "What is the council planning to do now?" Anakin asked. Mace heaved a sigh. "In truth? We have no clue. We cannot remain at an impasse with the Empire forever. Yet there is no way to send them away when we're on the defensive. They have more supplies, more time and more money. Eventually, either we'll be forced to retreat or they'll kill us all," yes, well, what else was new?

"The council will think of something sooner or later, they always do," he assured his friend with a passive wave of his hand signifying how unworried he was. If twelve capable and wise Jedi masters could not find the answer, then they were all doomed anyhow. They lapsed into a thoughtful silence, both consumed by thoughts of his own.

"Perhaps we should just do as Bail suggested," Mace murmured at length. "And what was that?" Anakin wondered. "Maybe we should just try to evacuate every artifact from the caves. We won't find _all _of it, but at least it will be something," the very suggestion ran Anakin's blood cold.

He halted in his steps and faced Mace seriously, eyes aflame. "We can't _abandon _Ilum," he growled. Mace shook his head with a sigh.

"Well what else can we do, Anakin? It isn't the Jedi way to lose lives on the account of something like this. What we're doing-it's akin to attachment, to _possession_. Our heritage will live on, just in a different way. Perhaps it is time to embrace a new generation of thinking anyway," he said, and Anakin could hear that the words tore some stitches out of the tightly knitted fabric of Mace Windu's heart.

This was not a fair or easy decision, but after two thousand years of making those sorts of decision in favor of the _greater good_, Anakin voted to make themselves part of that greater good circle, if only once.

"I used to think that way, too," he replied without hesitation, passionate in his belief. "I thought the Jedi Way was an old and over-used code of honor fit for the dark ages opposed to the present moment. But Mace, tradition is timeless, it has no expiration date. It is not a possession, it is a source of pride; it's a legacy. Our legacy as Jedi_ is_ our honor. Ilum is a piece of that tradition, of our honor. Sort of like this," he took his lightsaber from his belt and shook it under Mace's nose pointedly.

"We can keep our minds in the present moment at the same time as preserving what got us to the present moment in the first blasted place. This lightsaber crystal has been in that cave for over two-hundred years, but you see it still works wonders. I _want _Luke and Leia to travel to Ilum one day to find their lightsabers. I _want_ them to explore the caves and find some of the things we stored there force knows how many years ago. I _want _them to remember the sacrifices the Jedi have made in the past, because it gives us strength," he stated, with firm indignance.

"But is our legacy worth so many lives?" Mace demanded, uninspired by the speech. "We haven't lost _that _many lives, Mace; you're being too hard on yourself. Besides, if we work ourselves into exhaustion and ultimately death during this war, you'd better believe Sidious will destroy more lives that we could ever in this one battle. We're fighting for the future," Mace's eyes darkened like thunderclouds.

"The future is never set in stone," he quoted. "History holds all the answers," Anakin snapped back, eyes blazing warning.

Passionate knowledge and bold wisdom collided head first, eyes blazing blue and brown at one another. Two gundarks facing off in a standstill. The two aspects of the force trembling underneath their power.

Suddenly, in the midst of their show down, Mace's eyes widened. "History…" he muttered brows scrunching with deep concentration. "History holds all the answers! Anakin, that's it!" he cried.

Anakin stared at him warily. "What's it?" he asked. "History! Do you recall the battle of Honduras during the old Republic?" he inquired.

Anakin snorted; mildly irritated that he didn't know what Mace was rambling on about. "I skipped my history classes, too," he confessed. Mace gave him an exasperated look.

"For someone so passionate about tradition and history and the future, you sure do have a knack for knowing nothing about history, defying tradition, and never taking the future consequences into consideration," he stated starkly.

Anakin shrugged; he was a bit of a hypocrite, so what? He was still young. He had all the time in the universe to borrow some of Obi-wan's wisdom. "I just want my twins to go into the caves, Mace," he replied evenly.

"All I want for our people now is Ilum. I ask for nothing more," he replied with as much honesty as he could. Mace looked at him for a long time, his eyes expressionless.

Somehow, Anakin felt as if he were gazing back at a long lost friend of his whom he had brought back to the light after a long time in shadowed places. The force swirled around them, amalgamating, life giving, amplifying what was unsure and anxious to its perennial poise once more. Anakin had never known there was anything unsure or anxious in Mace Windu.

Mace's eyes seemed to soften, just for a moment. The unyielding censure in his brows yielded to appreciation. Anakin felt as if he had done something extraordinary by pure accident.

Without word, Mace exhaled slowly, and reached out, pressing a large hand against his shoulder. "I know, Anakin. I know. Thank you," he said softly.

Anakin blinked, confused, but before he could say anything, Mace turned on his heel, and the cloak danced about his heels as he swept away, somewhat of a new spring in his step.

Anakin remained in the hall a very long time, trying to figure out what exactly he had done or said that was worth receiving Mace Windu's thanks.

* * *

~Ahsoka's POV~

Experimentally, Ahsoka swung her wrist in a pendulum motion, relaxing the muscles and small joints that resided in her slim wrists. She intended, with every right and purpose, to officially _smash _Jinx.

Into the ground. Very hard. Since Anakin, Intrepid, Nava, Obi-wan or Lux were around to help empty some of her reserves of left over battle energy, she turned to her old friend to help purge it. After all, what were scruff-lookin' nerf herders for, hmm?

Besides, he _had_ dared her that he would be the champion in the next saber battle they came to clashing with, so she intended to make him pay for his insolence and prove his word. He obviously had no idea who…

"Master, please. You must," she stopped outside of the door to the briefing room, which was firmly shut, but the hollowness of the metal walls, and the fact that there was no one else about meant that sound carried easily through the passageways and walls.

Ahsoka had intended to sneak up on Jinx to give him the grand news that_ he_ would be her next victim, and thus hidden her force signature upon arrival aboard ship.

She stopped outside of the doors, sensitive ears picking up the sound of footfalls on the ground. Someone was pacing. Inx was inside; that had been his voice she had heard, but who else?

"Jinx, just as I do not tell you how to live _your_ life, please do not dictate just exactly how I should live mine," that was Aayla, and she sounded frustrated. What had the idiot done and said this time?

"I am not dictating you, Aayla, I'm only trying to help," she rolled her eyes. Since when did Jinx try to_ help_ people? His unsympathetic nature was not biased.

He believed in equality, which meant everyone was equal to solve their own problems. He was just the guy with the fancy saber standing unhelpfully in the background.

"I require thecoordinates, would you? We might have left this area unprotected during the battle," Ahsoka hesitated. The battle was over, why was Aayla studying the plans again?

True, re-going over the flaws and details was always a good learning experience, but you were supposed to do that _before_ not after. Then she hesitated again, realizing that she was purposefully eavesdropping.

"The battle is over," Jinx cried, sounding just as frustrated as his master. She heard a shuffle, and then the pacing halt momentarily. "Master," Jinx's voice was softer, less brusque, more meaningful.

She had never heard him speak so gently before. She had not been aware he could. "You must rest, eat, _relax_ a moment by the force itself. Please," he said softly, a hint of pleading in his voice. Aayla grunted, and the pacing resumed.

"You worry too much, as usual, my former apprentice. Anxiety is not the Jedi Way," Aayla informed him firmly. Ahsoka had to smile. She remembered that tone, the same youthful but deep grunt that associated with Aayla's command voice. Every Jedi had one.

"Neither is slowly killing yourself. Listen, I know you're still recovering from your addiction but…" Aayla interrupted him sharply.

"Once again, I say it was not an_ addiction_, Padawan. It was a momentary lapse in judgment, is all. Jedi do not get addicted to things. And it has nothing to do with this," she stated firmly. Ahsoka recoiled, shocked. Addiction? What were they talking about? Aayla had…? No. It couldn't be.

"Fine, I know you're still recovering from your _momentary lapse in judgment,_ but you can't keep going like this. Aayla, you need rest. When's the last time you slept or ate?" he demanded.

"The force holds no time," as Ahsoka remembered Aayla had once, not been one who followed the Code to absolute perfection. She had not been a constant quote fanatic of Jedi belief, either. Why the sudden knowledge?

"Yes, well, the rest of us do hold time. And I know for a fact it's been a long time since you ate anything and…Would you stop pacing? Look at me, Aayla!" Jinx snapped, temper flaring a sudden spike in the force. _He has much anger,_ Ahsoka observed distantly.

"I would stop pacing if you re-set the coordinates!" Snapped Aayla in turn. A frustrated growl, followed by a quick and heated typing in of numbers.

As promised, Aayla stopped pacing. Ahsoka heard the sound of someone sitting, followed then by the tapping of fingers.

"Be _still_, already! You never used to tap before or fidget before. What is wrong with you?" he demanded hotly. Ahsoka noted that this was the most pathetic excuse for trying to help she had ever heard in her entire life. Yelling was not a good way to talk to someone.

_Then again,_ she reflected with a rueful acceptance. _It __**is **__the way I usually communicate, so I shouldn't criticize him overly much. _"At the moment I am being harassed by an old friend. Other than that I am perfectly fine. Jinx…"

This time she was the one to be interrupted. "How can you say you're fine? Master, don't you see yourself in the mirror? You didn't look so dearly malnourished a year ago," Jinx argued.

"A year ago I had not been to Empire prison yet," they both lapsed into silence. Ahsoka inhaled sharply. She had heard about that too. The detention centers which held all of Sidious's enemies.

Aayla had been captured a year back, and so far she was the only recorded person to have ever escaped alive and sane. The others-Jedi or not-had all been dead or demented.

It appeared as if the reports of her being 'perfectly fine' were not right after all.

Ahsoka clenched her fists. Before the war, there had been healers…Specific Jedi with great psychological abilities to soothe mental horrors.

Now all those which might have done that had been transferred to handling younglings or became medical helpers, since they weren't much use in a fight. This was war, there were no such things as those now. Not for the Jedi.

"A year ago I had not gotten my first taste of Elixir," Aayla continued, her voice carefully controlled, perfectly calm, yet tinged with inner rage, broken composure and horrors seen and struck again in her innermost soul.

The force ran ragged with a scar of self-loathing, Ahsoka gasped, and then had to cover her mouth. She had heard of Elixir. Anakin had told her of it, hesitantly.

_ "__It's a pain killer,_" he had explained gravely. _"A very good painkiller. It helps soothe the nerves and mind. Or, make people__** think**__ it does. It's illegal, and only sold on the black markets now because of its fatal properties. It kills you slowly. Some of the old spice plots used to take it. It's a horrible way to go, Snips,"_ he had related somberly, with a shudder that had even wracked the legendary Hero With No Fear.

Was Aayla…?

Jinx exhaled, slowly, in unison to Ahsoka. "I know," he said softly. "I know, master. Forgive me. I know how hard it was for you to give it up, and I respect that. I _admire_ your courage, truly, but please," was that her or did his voice crack?

Ahsoka shook her head. She didn't believe Jinx capable of showing any weakness. He was a proud fool. "Do not continue to do this. You must rest. Your body needs it," he said softly.

Aayla let out a snort of disdain. "It would avail to nothing, Jinx. My dreams give me naught but memories of…Of prison. I can't keep anything down. The force is my only ally now, and a powerful ally it is indeed," though Aayla had only been to prison a week, Ahsoka could not imagine all the possibilities of what she must have gone through.

She shuddered and gulped. If Empire prison had been enough to break a strong, independent and proud woman such as Aayla, what else could Sidious do?

What else had he done that they didn't know?

"You have me as an ally. As your friend. I promised I would help you through this, and I will. Just tell me what you would have me do," Jinx sighed. He sounded tired, as if they had had this argument many times before.

"There is nothing that can be done, Jinx. This is a battle I fight alone," Aayla replied, somberly. Ahsoka heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the door. Feeling a surge of panic, she leapt backwards and pressed her back to a wall behind a bend, feeling outrageously like a coward.

The door opened, and Aayla swept out. Now that Ahsoka looked, her eyes seemed more sunken, her ribs more defined, her cloak seemed enormous on her small frame…

"Ah. Hello Ahsoka," yet she spared her a fleeting sincere smile as she walked past, noticing none of Ahsoka's inner shame. She nodded back, giving Aayla her largest most respect filled smile and looked back towards the corner where Jinx came out of the door, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

As she watched, he clenched his teeth, turned and rammed a hard fist into the wall, which shook with power. She cringed as she heard the sound of bending metal beneath his fingertips.

Then, feeling coward all the more, ashamed, unsure what to say to help, heal or comfort either of them, she turned and walked silently away.

* * *

A very uncharacteristic speech by General Skywalker. I tried to stay in between the boundaries as much as possible while still making a claim on his growing maturity and faith in the logic of the Jedi Way. I hope I didn't go_ too_ overboard.

~Queen Yoda


	12. The little commanders

Three days later:

~Intrepid's POV~

"Mmrrggh," Intrepid growled at whatever persistent attacker was trying to unproductively slay her. She swatted at the interference for the tenth time, only to have her wrist grabbed in a gentle handhold.

A familiar voice burbled some nonsense at her through the foggy haze of sleep Intrepid was trying to nestle back into.

At last, with a groan she lugged her face from out of her pillow and squinted at the blasted Sith spit she wished would just _kill_ her already.

Lo and behold, it was not Sith spit but Ahsoka. Jedi scum. "Get up, Intrepid," her friend said, pulling at her arm like a persistent puppy. Intrepid snatched her arm away grumpily.

"Go away," she growled, stuffing her face back into the pillow. Ahsoka heaved a great sigh as if she were the one being harassed by an early bird Togruta.

"Lux, do you think you can get her to wake up?" Ahsoka's voice asked another person in the room. "Sure. Intrepid! Whoo hoo!" He moved over to shake her shoulder like a pest.

Intrepid groaned and force pushed him away-or, more specifically, across the room. She heard a loud bump and curse, followed by a deep chuckle come from a third person. How many reinforcements had Ahsoka brought this time? The entire droid armada?

"Blast you, Intrepid! There's no need to be rude about it," Lux griped hotly. "Hey, Lux?" She mumbled into her pillow, groggily, voice muffled by the fabric. "Go jettison yourself into space, okay? And don't forget to_ not_ put on a helmet," she told him.

The same chuckle again. "She's always like this in the mornings," Ahsoka explained to the mystery visitor. "Violent and impertinent? I never would have guessed," Jinx replied in a droll tone.

Intrepid wondered what he was doing here. "Intrepid- seriously, get up. We're going sparring," Ahsoka began again. Intrepid could almost see icy blue eyes glaring at her back.

"At three o clock in the morning?" Intrepid demanded, with a snort of unwavering sarcasm. "Technically, it's almost noon, my friend," Ahsoka snickered. Intrepid could not give less of a gundarks behind.

"That's brilliant. On Bondernia its three o clock in the morning. Good night," she yawned. Ahsoka let out a small tsking sound. Intrepid left her there to tsk all she wanted. She had gone to bed not even six hours before, and she intended to get all of her sleep in before the next battle.

Suddenly, having no intention of letting her get some well deserved sleep, evidently, Ahsoka Tano hauled her entire muscled self on top of Intrepid and straddled her waist from behind, pressing chilled hands to Intrepid's back.

"Uggh!" Intrepid protested. "Aren't we getting too old for this?" Intrepid demanded, remembering their days in the children's quarters as younglings, where this sort of morning wake up was normal.

"Nope!" Lux laughed as Intrepid felt another large body crawl into her small bed and snatch the pillow from beneath her face. "Lux!" she groaned_; couldn't a girl ever get any sleep?_

To prove this thought fruitless, Lux used her own pillow against her, smacking the back of her head repeatedly while Ahsoka bounced up and down on her as if she were riding a wild stallion. Intrepid gritted her teeth. They wanted to play dirty.

_Fine_; she could play dirty too.

"Could you imagine if a master walked in right now?" Jinx called over, shaking his head as the three of them tossed and turned in the bed with absurd, uncontrolled, brawling.

"Ow!" Ahsoka and Lux cried in unison when Intrepid whacked them both with the stolen pillow, sending them sprawling out of her bed.

"There. We sparred. I won," Intrepid panted, snickering. "No you didn't, you arrogant barve. Now get out of bed and bring your saber. I intend full revenge for this," Ahsoka gasped, untangling herself from Lux.

Intrepid rolled her eyes and looked longingly back at the covers, yet knowing that there was no way she was going to be able to fall back asleep now.

She looked up at Jinx inquiringly. "Ahsoka talked you into it?" She asked. He gave a rueful smile and shrug of affirmation.

"Fine. If it gets the lot of you hooligans out of my room, then whatever. How did any of you even get onto my ship anyway?" She asked, pulling herself up and standing. She stretched, hearing several bones let out a sardonic_ crack_.

"By starfighter. You know those ships that fly through space every once in awhile?" Jinx said, with a cock of one eyebrow. "You're very obnoxious, do you realize that? Master Secura spoiled you," Intrepid snorted. Jinx replied with a wan, half grin and sparkling eyes.

* * *

~Rex's POV~

"Rex! You're okay!" Captain Rex turned, blinked his eyes open and twisted his head to gaze at the two rambunctious children running towards him in the small and cramped confines of the healing ward. He had to smile, dully, as they arrived at his low bed, faces creased by huge smiles.

He chuckled softly and sat up with a painful wince. His ribs buckled beneath his weight, and his head rung unpleasantly.

He said nothing, only let Luke take his hand, gigantic compared to his smaller ones, into his own.

"We heard you were in here," Luke told him, with a grin. Rex chuckled softly, the movement jostling his still injured body and causing a lone ray of agony to shoot throughout his blood cells, yet it was worth it.

"Are you hurt real bad?" Leia asked him, gaze running over his bandaged body with curiosity. Rex shook his head, realizing dimly that he, as well as most of the men inside the stuffy room, was shirtless.

"No, kid. Nothing but a scratch, I'll be fine soon," he assured them, ruffling Luke's hair affectionately. Luke poked out his bottom lip in a pout and hurriedly smoothed his spikes back into place.

Rex grinned as the five year old glared. "Don't do that!" Luke grumbled indignantly. "Rex! Guess what? We made a rescue bird!" Leia piped in excitedly. Some of the clones near gave small groans of pain at the loudness of her voice, throwing their arms over their eyes as if they were dying. Rex rolled his eyes. Bunch of ninnies.

Leia, though, misinterpreted their sensitiveness as something serious. She looked around and quickly hushed, bunching her neck with embarrassment.

"I heard about it," Rex agreed, by no means lowering his own voice. They were clones, born and bred for stuff like this.

Pain wasn't anything to complain over, not if you remembered that somewhere out there_, someone_ was in worst pain than you could ever imagine.

It was always true. "Which one of you came up with the idea?" he asked. Luke jerked his head to his sister, still ruffling down his hair.

"She read it out of a book," he told Rex without much interest. Leia nodded excitedly. "Yep, one of those old books about old Jedi and the old Republic! I got it off Nava's data-pad," Leia leaned forward, eyes glittering. "Come here, I'll tell you a secret," she giggled, already grabbing Rex by the ear to jerk him over to her mouth.

He barely restrained a hiss of pain, but chuckled heartily when he obeyed. "Nava said," Leia whispered, glancing furtively around, as if there were spies about just dying to receive this news. Force, he just could not get enough of the twins, could he? He probably spoiled them.

"That I wasn't ever allowed to read off her data-pad because she has weird things on there. She has how to make a bomb instructions on there, too, but I didn't have enough time to read that part…Oh, and she changed the code on her data-pad so I couldn't get on it," Leia giggled, making Rex smile as she revealed the next part.

"But I found on Soka's data-pad a way to_ crack_ codes and so I cracked her data pad and found out about the bird! Isn't that funny?" It wasn't funny so much as devious and destiny, in Rex's opinion, but these were small children they were thinking of. _Small children that now know how to crack codes,_ he reminded himself amusedly.

"I fixed up your fighter," Luke continued, shaking an admonishing head at his deceitful sister, whose eyes glittered with mischief. Rex was aware that he really shouldn't encourage them, but how could he not?

They were cute. Somehow the two of them had wiggled their little fingers into his heart, pried it open and jumped in.

He still remembered the night of their birth. He had been with Padme when she decided to announce that her water had broken.

He could still see Cody's eyes widening beneath his helmet. He could have sworn his friend had been about to faint himself, never mind the battle zone or Padme's problems!

"Thanks, Luke. Where's Artoo and Threepio?" he inquired. Leia waved her hand dismissively. "I ordered Threepio to shut down. Fatha said he was getting to be a royal nuisance," she told him imperiously.

"He's always like that," Luke pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Is not!" Leia hissed. "Is too!" Luke argued. "Anyway," Luke then went on, smartly interrupting his sister. "Artoo is with Soka and Trepid doing something. I let them borrow him," he informed Rex.

He nodded. "Well, that was nice of you. How about your punishment? Are you done with that yet?" At the reminder of their chastisement for disobedience, arrogance and tomfoolery, the twin's faces fell in a comical unison.

"No," they growled in unison also. Rex imagined it must be dreadfully hard having a twin…And then remembered that he had millions. Somehow, he felt like he had it easy.

"We still have a lot of droids to polish, and my fingers hurt at night sometimes, but we're almost done sorta," Leia admitted tiredly. Luke nodded. "Sometimes Fives sneaks in and helps us, but that's only when no one is looking," he said, Rex nodded.

They had managed to get under Five's skin, too, huh? Not surprising. "Speaking of no one looking, aren't you supposed to be flat on your back, Rex? We heard you were dire," another voice joined the fray.

Rex raised his eyebrows as Commander Cody and Fives walked up, helmets tucked beneath their arms and stepping gingerly to avoid tripping over the few body's that had been forced to move to the floors to give the more critically injured more bed space. This was the reality of war.

"Don't listen to rumors then," he suggested slyly as he reached up to clap Cody on the forearm in a salute, then Fives. The twins moved over to comply with the massive bulk of their armored friends.

"He don't look too dead to me, Cody," Fives observed, narrowing his eyes down at Rex. "I agree. Are you slacking on us, Rex?" Cody said, crossing his arms.

He snorted. "No, I'm taking time to learn how to sew, Cody. Don't nag me about it. Besides, I'm stuck here under guard until the doc says I can leave," he jerked his head towards the clone surgeons, who walked in between the cots, bed, bodies and supplied with elegant practice.

"Why is everyone so squished?" Leia wondered, looking around at the tiny space she had left for standing. "And why does it smell so bad?" Luke added, wrinkling his nose at the smell of blood, sweat, body liquid, bacta and excrement that all mingled in gag-worthy harmony inside the room.

Rex was surprised they hadn't already thrown up, but then again, he was used to the smell and the twins had been around injured people before. Back at Biyalia they had visited the injured ward daily, bringing with them huge grins of enthusiasm.

"There's not enough room for everyone," Fives answered Leia. "And it always stinks in here no matter what," Cody replied to Luke's question, gruffly. "Well, that's not fair! And fatha said we saved a bunch of people," Leia huffed, crossing her arms.

"Yeah," Luke agreed, eyes searching the room, disappointed. "He said not as many people got hurt this time," their innocent compassion eased Rex's pains for a moment.

"You _did_ save a bunch of people," Cody assured them. "And not as many people got hurt, but enough did so that it's all full in here, and every other med ward too," Fives finished.

Leia opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment Gash noticed them. "Twins!" he greeted, face brightening from tired and droll lines of stress into weary joy.

"Here to entertain to the weak and groaning?" he wondered. "No, we came to see Rex," Leia said honestly. "But we can help. Can I carry bandages again?" Luke asked cheerily. Gash chuckled.

"Only if you don't wrap them around your body again. Making little boy mummies are not what they're for," he told them. Luke's face fell, and Rex opened his mouth, about to tell Gash just to let the boy do what he wanted, but then Leia had an idea.

"I know! Why don't we have story time! Rex knows a bunch of weird stories," Leia said. Rex shrugged. "Most of us do, Leia," he pointed out. "We all went through it together, kid," Fives added. Leia rolled her eyes at them, sympathetic for their plight of ignorance.

The clones exchanged feeble grins. "No, silly, weird stories, like that time Rex and us blew up the blender or the time Cody kissed a girl or that time when Fives shot Groper in the back or…" Leia, having been overheard by most of the room's inhabitants, was swiftly interrupted by several jeers.

"You blew up a blender?"

"You kissed a girl? _Cody?"_

"Fives! It was _you_ who shot me! I _knew_ it!"

Rex, Cody and Fives all blushed, subject to other exclamations of surprise. Luke noticed their embarrassment and smiled kindly. "You forget Leia," he added, raising his voice to quiet the madness.

"About the time Groper wrote a love poem to a Wookie or the time Gash set a tack on Cody's chair, or the time Comet got drunk on Corellia and sang the baby song!" he announced. Rex burst into painful, raucous laughter as the subjects of these accusations blushed deep maroon.

"Gash…" Cody said, glaring at his brother, who gave the appearance of going pallid though his face was really starch red. "What exactly is the 'baby song'?" Fives inquired, grinning at the recipient, who was pretending to have died in his bed immediately following this comment.

"I didn't you were a poet, Groper!" Rex taunted, laughing. Groper groaned and covered his face in mortification.

"That's six stories down we have to tell. Just to make it fair, why don't we all swap humiliating tales?" Cody suggested, being the peace-loving fair player that he rightfully was.

He wasn't as much fun because of this, but it did come in handy sometimes. After all, Rex didn't want to be the_ only_ one who told an embarrassing memory today. This suggestion was met with light approval from the sociable clones. "You, Jedi younglings," Gash decided, pointing at the instigators of this madness.

"Come use your floating powers to help me move the beds into a circle, and then you sit and take notes. We want all of this placed in the new Jedi temple archives someday," he half joked.

In truth, it would be nice if there was some official documentation of the clones when the war was done and they were no longer needed. It would be nice if _someone _remembered the sacrifices they had made.

The room exploded in agreeable laughter and Rex relaxed back into his cushions as the twins happily set to work practicing their force skills. Cody and Fives jogged off to help the surgeons move beds into a circle and then continued to sit and pass around tales.

For some reason, this always happened when the twins were around.

* * *

Later:

~Padme's POV~

"And have you ever noticed that whenever you want to just talk they make it more complicated? I mean, I spoke of how the planet seems so cold and distant from here the other day and he goes into a story of some planet that had a battle that went like this, back in the day, like I'm really supposed to care …" Padme said, shaking her head remorsefully.

"I know it," Nava agreed with a sigh. "And it's like I just wanted to talk about the planet, man, I didn't want you to go all into the logistics of a completely different subject, for force sakes," she agreed, hands folded neatly behind her back. Padme nodded with knowing.

"Why do you suppose they do that?" She asked. The woman who stood in for best friend, mother, sister shrugged helplessly, her braids curving over her shoulders like a tide over rocks.

Nava was always moving, not in a fidgety sort of way, but in the little movements that helped accentuate her liveliness and natural beauty.

"Who knows?" The older woman responded meekly. "I doubt if I'll ever understand men, but we must endure them with patience and equanimity," She commented wisely. Padme snorted.

"Does patience and equanimity include throwing my hair brush at him once in awhile? Because I really want too sometimes. He drives me mad. Like yesterday, Nava, Anakin walked into the room and blatantly announced that he had, somehow, gotten some of his ration bar stuck up his nose and could I help him get it out? Because it was making his eyes water. I mean, who does that?" She lamented.

They turned the corner and started towards the medical bay, on their way to pick up Luke and Leia from their visit with Rex. Nava tusked. "His master does the same thing," she assured her wayward friend.

"Do you know he stepped from the shadows the other day, completely random, and announced that he had just learned about some odd culture or another that, for a birthing ceremony, has the wife sit at an edge of a high building window or some other equally dreadful place, and then when the egg pops out, it falls to into the waiting arms of its father? As if I am really supposed to be vastly interested by such things?" She agreed, exasperatedly.

Padme shook her head, reflecting that though she _had_ fallen in love with the man, the idea that she must have been _completely _out of her right mind to have done so wasn't a new concept, and apparently was not new to Nava, either.

"They have good hearts, but I wonder whatever happened to their brains," she snorted sarcastically.

"They just forget to use them sometimes, I think. There's nothing wrong with it, really, it just gets tedious," Nava chuckled as they finally approached the med-bay doors. Light shined dimly from underneath the door.

Laughing softly, the two women opened the door and stopped in surprise at what they saw. Padme inhaled sharply as, inside the room, an array of cots, chairs, beds and random bodies had been rolled into a crude circle around a center stage of one chair.

That center stages was empty except for a faint lantern, the only light in the room, yet all the other remaining chairs and beds occupied by slumbering, injured clones.

All of them, including the medical clone surgeons, lay in beds, sat slumped in chairs or sprawled upon the floor in an untidy mass of blankets, pillows, bandages and limbs that all eventually mingled together so that it was difficult to discern beginning from end.

Seeing all the cloned faces slumbering, faces relaxed into peaceful oblivion, touched Padme's mother's heart.

Then she noticed her twins. Padme grinned, emotions stirring, as she noticed Leia cuddled close to the chest of Captain Rex in bed, one of his bare arms wrapped close around her like a kitten, a smile on her face as she gently slept.

Luke was on the floor next to Commander Cody, asleep also on the clone's chest, curled into a neat ball of blankets and expression peacefully oblivious.

Her breath escaped in a slow whoosh of air that reproduced the sound "Aaahhhh," she murmured. She had known the clones loved the twins, but this picture, with injured soldiers along with their future generals, was _heartwarming_.

Nava, beside her, wrapped a gentle arm about her shoulder and squeezed. "Let's leave them to It," she suggested in a whisper.

"The clones will take care of the twins for us, I think. And it'd be a shame to wake them," it would, even with a picture to preserve the moment. Some moments were meant to only be lived through once.

Padme nodded, grinning, and turned. With a wave of her hand, Nava closed the door behind them, sealing the Jedi and clones inside to dream the rest of the night through together.


	13. Perfection

~Yoda's POV~

"A ludicrous idea is this, but work it may," he grunted, without disapproval or approval. "It will certainly put a damper in their lives, though it is highly dangerous," Bail piped up, staring at the plans with amazement.

"It is one of our only options. And it may bring this battle to a quicker end," Master Mundi said, his quiet voice strong.

The force was strong in this room, stirring lazily with their weariness, yet softly encouraging of their selflessness.

"Very well. I approve," Bail sat back, nodding. Yoda exchanged a glance with Mace and Obi-wan, silent amusement flitting between them. "Execute it shortly, we shall," he decided, with a final clang of his walking stick.

With nods all around, the council dispersed to fulfill separate duties. Bail let out a long sigh and stood, vanishing without another word.

The force around him was especially weary. Yoda screwed his mouth in sympathy, he was aware that the other Rebel leaders were making it hard for him. His decision was not overly popular.

Yoda grunted in acknowledgement of this, and let the door slide closed before he turned to his confidants, the only two men remaining in the room.

Obi-wan and Mace had long stood up, though both were no longer the youthful or exuberant Padawans they used to be, idleness and sitting still for long periods of time were skills that still eluded them.

Yoda remained in his seat, not the comfortable and form fitting chairs of the council chambers, but still seats. The claustrophobic atmosphere of the small room made him look out the small windows, where endless spans of space opened up around them, stars glittering, ships waiting, the Dark Side of the force purring a short distance away, tugging playfully at them.

He could sense Sidious and Vader, Dooku and Starkiller as acutely as if they were in the room. He knew as well that they could sense him equally.

"Thinking, I have been," he announced, deftly interrupting the conversation of his fellow council members. They turned to him, respectful, patient. Yoda leaned on his stick and sighed.

"A long time since together, the Jedi have been," he reminisced. "A very long time," Mace agreed, crossing his arms, waiting. Obi-wan's eyes stared unblinkingly at him, acute attentiveness unwavering. Bruck had done that to him; made his focus and intuitiveness razor sharp.

He noticed every detail, every motion and feeling the force had to offer. Nothing slipped past him, yet Obi-wan was as reclusive and buoyant as a masked figure.

It alarmed Yoda a bit; that sort of power was akin to great Jedi masters who had lived decades longer than Obi-wan could ever dream of surviving.

Humans had a notoriously short lifespan, but Obi-wan seemed to have passed the years of his factual duration and found skill that took lifetimes to grow.

The force was as bright as a solar disk around him, and the light almost seemed to_ tousle_ his hair in affection, yet he was so bright he blinded them to Seeing through him all the way.

Yoda had the nagging suspicion that Obi-wan was hiding something, but the shield of light and strongholds of the force were impenetrable; the secret was not for them to know.

"After this battle, another chance like this, we may not have," he continued slyly. Younger men might have been impatient for the point, yet his friends endured his rambling patiently, striving to understand the wisdom in his words. He had to smile. "A break, the order requires," that made their eyebrows shoot up. In unison, as well.

"A what?" Mace demanded. Obi-wan narrowed his eyes. "This word_ break_, what does it mean again?" Obi-wan added, some of his dry humor finding its way past austere Jedi discipline.

Yoda fixed him with a long-suffering stare. "Vacation. Coffee break. Respite. Weekend. Remember it now, do you?" He said back. Obi-wan feigned ignorance, which wasn't completely counterfeit. "Not really," he admitted.

"What do you mean by break, master?" Mace asked again, brows crinkling as if he_ really_ had no clue what Yoda was talking about. "A_ celebration_, Windu," he sighed, too old for this nonsense.

"Of what?" His former protégé demanded, unconquerable with impatience. "We are, admittedly, in a battle for our lives, honor, and cherished history, master. I do not believe the order will find cause to celebrate," Obi-wan pointed out rationally.

Yoda shook his head; they were young yet. "Celebrate_ life_, we should, Master Kenobi. Short is it, and easily ended, enjoy and commemorate it while we can, we must. No Jedi killed in this battle were, but next time be so lucky we might not be. Before death, a taste of relaxation I want the order to enjoy," he thumped his cane down steadfastly.

"Enjoy these things, the Order_ will_," he decided, without any qualm in his voice. Mace nodded, slowly. Obi-wan did likewise, their understanding great. They both knew the price of life, the value of it.

"But how will we get them all together? Surely we cannot order them to one ship to have a _party_ of all things. The others will stare at us as if we've gone mad," Obi-wan made a valid point.

"And the Rebel Council probably will not agree with your point of view either, master. Remember, they do not want to be here at all," Mace added.

"Care less about the Rebel council, I could _not_," Yoda harrumphed indignantly. "Yet right you are, Obi-wan…" he grunted and sat back, thinking.

The Jedi were a very devoted and serious lot, he had to admit. Even more so because of this war. A party would seem like useless and superficial folly to them. Suddenly, Yoda had an idea.

"Obi-wan, when spar with Skywalker, attract a crowd do you not?" he asked. Obi-wan seemed surprised by the question. "We do, master. Almost every time," he answered pathetically. "Good. Order all the Jedi to one place for briefing we shall, then put on show you two will. Do it, that should," the force laughed in gentle agreement.

"It will attract them, yes. But not permanently," Mace continued, nitpicker that he was. "Then spar with_ me_ you will, Master Windu. Keep them there; that should. Get to talking, the others might. More challenges will be issued, more laughing. Jedi, we may be, but not exempt are we from instinctual socialization," he answered smugly, enjoying the brief flash of horror his former apprentice emitted when he heard he would have to spar with him.

Obi-wan's small grin was not to be contained, though he turned his head to hide it. "I suppose it is a plan then. What about the Rebel Council?" them again. Politicians always ruined everything.

"Join in the fun they may. Or, in a closet we will lock them. Jettison them into space. Send to planet to freeze, care I do not what they will do, as long as _quiet_ they stay," that seemed to be hugely funny to both men, who chuckled with mirth.

* * *

~Dooku's POV~

_ "__Master?" Dooku looked up from his data pad to see Qui-gon standing in his doorway. The lanky teen seemed unusually vulnerable barefooted, hair tousled and bandage around his slightly bloodied arm still in place. _

_Dooku heaved a sigh. This mission had been especially incommodious. He stroked his beard thoughtfully and turned fully to embrace his Padawan with his eyes. _

_"__Have you become a temporary insomniac, my apprentice?" he wondered. Qui-gon did not appreciate the humor. His lips thinned, and he nodded, eyes dark in the dim light. _

_"__Very well. Come in and attempt to meditate," he said. Qui-gon nodded and the sixteen year old moved from the doorway into the room, shutting them both in the warm and comforting lights that cast dull orange shadows on the entire room. _

_Qui-gon moved past him, cold as an icicle and sat down on the bed, head in his_ _hands._ _Dooku turned away and began his work again. Losing himself in the rhythm of hard and mental calculations, he did not notice the young man's eyes burning into him._

_"__You feel no remorse, master?" Qui-gon asked at length. Dooku did not look up and turn around. _

_ "__Of course not. What is there to mourn?" He replied calmly. "The lives, master. We lost some. Those people…" Qui-gon began. "Are in the safekeeping of the force, Qui-gon. There is no death. It is a hard lesson, I know, but I have come to terms with it. So must you. All things die. Ever stars burn out," he reminded his younger counterpart. _

_"__We could have done something…" Qui-gon insisted. Dooku turned, and a cold look silenced the rebellious tongue. Dooku kept that look a minute more, causing Qui-gon to look down. _

_ "__You don't regret that they're dead? That people will mourn and cry for them? You don't regret that we __**failed**__?" He demanded softly. Dooku went rigid. Failure was not an option. He did not fail; he merely fell short of expectations sometimes, and he expected Qui-gon to do the same. Perfection was a virtue. _

_ "__We did not fail, Qui-gon," he replied tightly. Fiercely, he stood and walked over. He put both hands on his Padawan's shoulders, squeezing hard. "Look at me," he ordered. _

_Qui-gon looked up with tears streaked cheeks. He took death so personally; he understood everything with a clarity in his heart that was more than mere compassion. He felt possession, attachment, he felt responsible for those people. _

_If he did not learn to shield his heart, he would go mad with its brokenness. _

_"__I do not mourn the force's will. If there had been something more we could have done, the force would have revealed it," he told his protégé._

_ "__But you always say that the truth is not given, it is earned. What if we had to try to see what it wanted us to do? We just stood there and let them die. How is that the force's will? If we expect the force to__** give**__ the answer every time…" the young Jedi disagreed hotly. _

_ "__The force is more reliable than hot-headed instinct," Dooku growled. "Hot headed instinct is a gift from the force, "Qui-gon snapped back. Dooku exhaled and took his hands away._

_ "__You are young and foolish my friend," he replied harshly. "Aren't Jedi supposed to change things?" Qui-gon hissed. "Death is a_ _natural occurrence. We merely let nature take its course. It is not something to be sad or __**irrational **__about," he spoke sharply, anger rising._

_It seemed to rise easily where Qui-gon was_ _concerned. The boy drove him livid. Maybe that was why he was so endearing. "Yes but it is something to regret. We cannot just feel nothing," Qui-gon stood firm underneath_ _his scalding eye. _

_Dooku let out a guffaw. Why was he arguing with this fifteen year old? Qui-gon was exhausted and emotional, as always. _

_He waved his hand dismissively. "If you refuse to hold your tongue, then be kind enough to employ it to someone who does not have half a mind to thrash you. Be gone," he turned and began his work again, ignoring it when Qui-gon thundered_ _from the room; eyes alight with defiant flames. _

_In the end, he would see it Dooku's way. He would see that remorse and regret were futile and idiotic emotions. Guilt meant nothing. There was only peace, and some semblances of peace required ignorance. _

Dooku's vision cleared. His fists unclenched. His breaths were uneven. His mind tossed with churning unease. He hated those memories; some part of him wished Sidious would just remove them. They brought so much pain.

He was back aboard the ships, staring out at the rebel Cruisers looming back at them over the planet of Ilum. He could sense Yoda, a burning fuel of light in the distance.

He could sense Mace and Obi-wan, Shaak Ti and Fisto. Every person he had left behind. They were sitting right there, ripe for the picking.

So close he could almost taste the victory of capturing them, of _owning_ them… He would own and destroy the Jedi Order.

_ "__No, master. You will destroy yourself. The order still owns something of you," _Dooku inhaled sharply, then relaxed. It was a vision, nothing more. Symptoms of having to break up fights every five seconds. Yet the light that seemed to stand right behind was so familiar, so missed…

Dooku did not turn. Instead, he folded his hands together, lacing his fingers and breathing in the dark. The light did not die. Instead, it only chuckled.

_"__You can't order me away, or threaten me. You cannot destroy me now, my old teacher,"_ Qui-gon-no, not Qui-gon, the light side playing tricks- said teasingly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked softly.

_ "__I am here because you are here. That and I'm visiting old friends. You, Yoda, Obi-wan, Anakin… I would not want you to forget me after all,"_ he never had taken anything seriously, especially not Dooku's anger.

He had always just laughed at it, as if anger were some measly thing, some child's tantrum instead of a weapon. At the moment though, his anger_ did_ amount to nothing, so Dooku stored it away. He could not kill a dead man.

Besides, the dead man had already killed him with his death.

_ "__It hurts me to see you this way, master,"_ Dooku closed his eyes, cocked an eyebrow. There was no reason for sorrow.

"I have been enlightened, Qui-gon. I feel sorry that you never felt it yourself. You were deceived and killed by the Jedi and their weakling morals. You could have been so much more, but they held you back," he replied darkly.

It still choked him with fury, smothered him in rage. The council would just _throw_ away another member_-Qui-gon_-of all people to his doom. Out of the belief in justice? Justice did nothing for anyone. If you are willing to die for something, let it be something that pays you back exponentially.

_"__You have been enslaved, master. I watch your pain, and I see your anger. You are being tortured, but you do not care if at the same time you can inflict the same agony unto someone else. I was not killed by the Jedi or their morals, I willingly gave my life for it. I ended my life properly,"_ properly?

Dooku snorted. "You were stabbed and slowly died in your Padawan's arms. What sort of honorable death is that?" he demanded. _"I died at the hands of a madman who was trying to steal a planet's freedom. I died __**for **__freedom. Seldom is there a more honorable death. And I died in the arms of someone I loved. My life was complete,"_ Qui-gon, always so sentimental.

"I, for one, do not harbor such… Ridiculous fancies or maudlin qualities. The Jedi betrayed and corrupted you, and for that they must be destroyed. I wish to avenge you Qui-gon, and save future generations from their disgusting ways," he waved his hand dismissively and opened his eyes, glaring at the ships, hoping that the Jedi could_ feel_ his anger, his hatred, could feel his power growing. They would cower before him soon, the whole lot of them.

_ "__You seek revenge on the wrong side, and you wish to save the future from the wrong people. For a perfectionist, you are quite practiced at failing, hmm Yan?"_ He swirled around his chair, lightsaber ablaze, cruel red blade buzzing with fury, and teeth clenched.

But there was nothing-no one- there. He was completely alone. Even the presence of the once familiar light side was absent, without a trace. Maybe he always had been alone, no matter how sure he had felt that there was someone there.

Never the matter, only weak users of the light depended on trust or friendship. He, Count Dooku, remained alone in the dark, and as such, received all the power for himself. He was all powerful. He was king, sovereign. He was enlightened. He was _perfect. _

In every inadequate way.


	14. Family reunion Jedi style

~Padme's POV~

Padme had _not _known clones could sing. Yet here they all were, striking deep tenor notes or high sopranos, depending on the brother, and they sounded beautiful.

"Go ahead gangster, do your worst, I'm the one who saw it first!" they sang, with a surprisingly cheery tune for such a dark song.

Padme looked down from the ship she was polishing. Anakin was below, Artoo and Luke at his side while he fixed, humming the song along with his men.

"Torture me till I fall down, then you spit up on my ground!" Nava had told her this was a universal song amongst the clones, and had been inspired after a clone witnessed his general being tortured to death.

Padme found herself humming along, and vaguely wondered if they were disrespecting the dead Jedi's spirit by being so happy with it.

"Smile that smile that reaches a million miles, then throw me in the garbage pile!" It was very catchy, especially since they spat out the last words with immense enthusiasm, obviously having a great deal of fun.

"Oh yeah, that's right! Never gonna lose this fight! Oh, yeah, it's true! Never gonna bow to you, you've brought me war and you've brought me pain, but guess what gangster? It's all a game! Cause I'm not backing _down_!" Ah, there was the hidden message in the folklore.

The Jedi's renowned determination and defiance in the face of danger and death. Whoever had composed this song had been very observant. Padme chuckled, actually enjoying her punishment what with the clones along to make it entertaining.

She pushed a piece of stray hair away and gazed over at Leia, who was finishing up polishing another Artoo unit, singing with a clear, cheerful voice along with the clones. Obi-wan had been right about the pain.

After a few days, Padme's palms had hardened under the tenuous work. Now instead of the horrid burning and cramping she had felt the first day, she felt a satisfied pound underneath her skin. Hard work was always rewarded.

Padme finished one more spot, leaning back to chew at her lower lip and examine her detailed work. Just two more ships to go. "How you doin up there, angel?" Anakin called up.

Padme looked down from the ladder she was on and smiled. "Only two more ships and we're off parole, Ani!" She replied over the clones singing. He nodded and smiled, face smudged with fuel.

"Good then. We have to go for the briefing in about an hour. Do you think together we can get it done by then?"

She thought that he was adorably endearing with the fuel streaking across his left cheek, and his blue eyes twinkling in the vibrant lights of the hangar, the rays of light dancing in his wispy hair and the cheery tune of the clone's singing seemed to add to the illumination in his face.

He was beautiful. Though, that had not been his question.

"Of course," her heart had sped up a bit. Did he notice? Did she show? Their relationship had been… Timid since the events that had happened a mere few months before.

What with Jiro, Shantra, and the baby, and Courascant… Both had been tentative of what they said and did, akin to the hesitation one used when walking on sharp shards of broken glass barefooted.

Anakin had managed to at least move past it with her, and they had spoken about it a few times, again detachedly and reservedly, but it was a start.

Padme could not lose him again.

Anakin smiled, bashfully, and ducked his head. "I'll…Um, start on the next one, I guess," he mumbled at length, some red hue staining his cheeks and neck. With that stuttered out, Anakin walked off, expression pleased and shy.

Padme chuckled, suddenly remembering a little boy who had ducked his head in just that way, and whose cheeks had stained red just that fast.

"I'm done!" Leia announced, as she waltzed over, proudly. Padme grinned and climbed down. "Already? You've beaten me_ and_ your father!" She pretend scolded. Leia giggled and nodded, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I used the technique Soka taught me," she replied.

"What technique?" Padme asked, surprised. Leia only grinned. "I can't tell you, silly! It's top secret," she replied, covering her mouth as if to keep the answer from spilling out with her laughter. Padme laughed.

"I'll find a way to get it out of you sooner or later. Preferably with candy," she assured her daughter. "I'm open to bribes," Leia agreed magnanimously. Padme laughed again, thinking that Obi-wan had taught her a little _too _well.

"Alright, little negotiator, are you tired?" She inquired. Leia shook her head. "I don't get tired much," yes, that was true, their energy was boundless.

"Good. Come help your father and me finish our punishments and I'll let you and Luke come watch him and Obi spar. They're going to do it after the briefing."

_Hopefully,_ the twins would find some constructive task to do _during _the briefing. Leia's face lit up. "Really?" she asked. _"Really?"_ Luke echoed, sounding amazed at the opportunity just granted them.

"Only if we get done in time. Hurry up now," faces contorted into excited delight, the twins quickly grabbed rags, dipped them into the polish and began scrubbing determinedly away at the ships.

"Force, me and Obi-wan will have to make it good. I'd hate to disappoint after the work you two put in to watch us," Anakin laughed, watching them with affectionate eyes.

"You'd better make it good," Padme agreed peering over the top of the ship to quirk her brows at him. "I've never seen you and Obi-wan spar before either. From what I've heard, you two are amazing," she said.

Anakin grinned lopsidedly. "As he likes to say, he taught me everything I know, but not everything _he_ knows, and as I like to say back," Anakin chuckled softly. "I know more than he thinks," a terrible challenge.

Padme shook her head. "Why'd he ask you to do it after the briefing?" She asked. Anakin shrugged.

"I dunno. He had this weird twinkle in his eyes, too, but he kept evading all my questions about it. He probably will not have time to do anything before the briefing, and I can expect he has some new moves he read out of an old textbook or something. I'm usually his experiment rat when it comes to those sorts of things," the way he said it made Padme think he rather _liked_ to be the experiment rat. Anakin always did love surprises and new challenges.

"I wish you luck then. Let's hurry," Anakin nodded, eagerly, and they separated to finish their work. Padme scrubbed and mulled over the implications Anakin had described.

She had learned that in their sort of lives, the future either brought signs of coming disasters or coming miracles. She wondered which it would be this night.

**_Later:_**

~Anakin's POV~

The chosen plan was precarious, and admittedly unwise, yet those sorts of ideas and strategies adhered to him more.

He could _understand_ those, and some part of him wondered if something he had said had a hand in giving Mace the idea for this. He just could not understand why it was Ahsoka, Intrepid, and Lux who needed to be one of the Jedi teams to go.

Well, actually, yes he could. They were, after all, _The Trio,_ wonderfully equipped and attuned. They were capable young adolescents.

At the same time, though, he could not help but feel a nagging sense of anxiety; they were part of his _family_. Furthermore, they were still just kids.

Anakin sighed and banished his doubts as he faced off against Obi-wan in the empty hangar bay of _The Negotiator,_ Obi-wan's cruiser. Which, for some reason, was devoid of any ships.

The ray shields were up, yet the metal shields had been pulled away to reveal the starry night sky, and below that, the shrouded planet of Ilum, peaceful and trusting.

Anakin inhaled sharply, hearing the saber crystals in the caves below, hidden, masked, mysterious and patient for their rightful owners. They sang to him, a lullaby and encouragement that meant more than any mortal words could ever…

"Hey, Obi-wan? You're not going to_ thrash_ me, are you?" he asked, as he discarded his cloak and tossed it lazily to the side.

Obi-wan floated his over to sit next to it, a neatly folded fabric that smelled of tea, at the side of a discarded and untidy pile that smelled of engine grease.

"Why, Anakin, wherever did you get such a sadistic idea?" Obi-wan gave him a playful grin and innocent gaze, which told the truth behind his words. Anakin was not only getting thrashed; he was getting_ creamed_.

He smiled at his best friend, feeling competitive battle energy course through him like liquid fire. It set his blood aflame with excitement and made him grin in giddy anticipation.

The force swept back and forth around him, ready to lend aid, dancing with mirth, shining with light brighter than the stars who stood as audience to them. Obi-wan cocked an admonishing eyebrow, the crow's feet around his eyes speaking of inner amusement.

Obi-wan's signature suddenly knocked at Anakin's mental shields openly. Ah, so this was a force attuned fight, was it? All the better, and it did make these spars more powerful, less about winning and more about exploring the other's bounds, finding a way to blend their force signatures together so that they were one soul in two bodies, so that one's power was the other's, one's goals and fears was the others.

It was an intoxicating way to fight, but also a vital way to strengthen their already impenetrable bond. It made for a pretty sight, Ahsoka had said, and truthfully, he _did_ want to impress Padme.

He ignited his saber, cocky grin in place, bouncing lightly on his heels. Obi-wan ignited his own, still as a statue, face expressionless, smirk in place.

"Go Obi!" Leia chanted from above. He looked up to see a small crowd already forming on the upper decks, which led down to the hangar. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Hey! What about me?" he demanded. "Go fatha!" Luke added, as Ahsoka picked him up and set him in between her montrals.

Nava set Leia on the rail and wrapped her arms around her protectively, watching with serenity. Intrepid, Windu, Lux, Padme and Yoda looked very amused indeed.

Chuckling Anakin raised his saber above his head, letting his senses leak into the force, feeling his mind blend with Obi-wan. Then, in a blinding chasm of blue light, they attacked at the same time.

Within seconds, Anakin felt his surroundings evaporate into a narrow window, where there was only him and Obi-wan, the blue of their sabers coming together again and again, attracted to one another by the opposite glow of the other and creating different colors with their quick unions, black, sapphire, ginger, scarlet, gold...

The sounds dulled until there was not anything to be heard but the crashing of sabers, sparks flying from the combined strength.

Obi-wan's heartbeat leveled to match his, their breaths released in unison, their steps parallel to one another. Their strokes became smoother and cohesive, lissome as soaring birds and brisk as pouncing cats. Emotions faded to mean nothing.

In fact, there were no emotions; here the Jedi Code was correct to a flaw. There was no emotion; there was peace.

Peace in perfect unification. Fighting strategies and saber tactics disappeared until they did not have to plan their moves and attacks; their bodies simply did it naturally, according to the force, which bound and lead them like dancers around each other.

The force swirled around them, Obi-wan's resilient, empathetic signature mingling with Anakin's passionate, impulsive one. It was only the two of them, more in a dance of friendship and trust than of sparring.

Time passed, still they danced, fatigue the last of their worries, for Obi-wan knew how to draw in strength from the stars and moons, from the planet itself, and because he knew by extension, Anakin knew.

He did not realize he was laughing aloud until it began to draw to a close. The light…It was just so abundant here, in the sanctuary they had built together, the temple of unified peace that bordered on a trance.

Elation, affection, comfort appreciation, hope, trust, devotion, the light intensified what was in their hearts until there was nothing else.

It was dizzying, it was thrilling, it was _magnificent._ Yet it always had to end.

* * *

~Nava's POV~

The entire Jedi Order had stopped to see the fabled _Negotiator_ and his former protégé spar. Some of the Rebel council were also present, gawking at the spectacular display below. Luke and Leia were uncharacteristically silent, eyes wide and following the sabers every move.

Anakin and Obi-wan themselves had faded to a mere blur to the naked eye. Yet in the force, they had achieved what few masters could ever dream of. They had achieved the gift of accord in the force.

There were no such things as individual now; they were no longer Anakin Skywalker and Obi-wan Kenobi, but something _more_. They were one. It was a meditation, a trance that required absolute trust; that was the genuine mark of years of respect and loyalty.

Two force sensitive's so very strong in the force they were almost _drowning_ in its power had now amalgamated that power, and because of this, in the force they were _blinding._

They were brighter than any supernova, so bright that the Jedi shied away from their light in the force, instead relying on their worldly eyes to see the incredible accomplishment. Even Yoda grunted, impressed.

The lightsabers cried out in joy, screamed with the years of discord needed to unearth this talent finally. Union, like every good thing the Jedi fought for, was earned, not given.

Very soon, the blue sabers turned into every color in the rainbow including vivid red, dramatic blue, flamboyant white, lucid purple, even glowing black.

Then the force contracted as Anakin and Obi-wan started to fall back into two separate entities instead of one.

"They're…Remarkable," Padme whispered in awe. Nava smiled and nodded. "They're show-offs," Ahsoka agreed jokingly, leaning on the rail. Her eyes shined with admiration, though not surprise. She probably had seen this display many times before.

"Their sort of talent takes years- _lifetimes-_ to cultivate and contain. I've never seen such…." Shaak Ti trailed off, obviously dumbstruck of a word worthy enough to describe this.

"Something so charming? They do have a knack for surprising people," Mace said from somewhere nearby, though he sounded as winded as Shaak Ti.

"How long have they been at this? I thought it was dangerous to do it for an extended amount of time," Jinx said, he had shielded his eyes as if they were the ones showing the burning elucidation of the two men.

"The maximum time they have done this for is two hours. We've only passed fifteen minutes. I don't know how or when they decide to stop, but it's settling down now," she was right, the supernova was splitting again, their strokes slowing. The balcony above rippled with small talk, with exclamations of astonishment, with spreading laughter.

The light side was contagious, these two seemed to be spreading it, and in response the Jedi were loosening their tight shields of callous professionalism.

She saw Mace and Yoda exchange a glance and smile. _What is so funny?_ A startled gasp from one of the senators as the spinning stopped. Nava looked down to see the end of the ritual.

It came to a conclusion as all things ultimately did: with a salute. The sabers went silent as they were extinguished, the force fell back into rightful places and identities; sweat dripped from hair and both were panting, but facing one another, grinning. A moment of awed silence.

Then the arena erupted into gracious applause.

Padme laughed as Anakin and Obi-wan looked up, stunned. Nava clapped her hands. The twins whooped and hooted, glad of the draw. Anakin gave the crowd a glitzy bow, hand sweeping the floor.

Obi-wan rolled his eyes and shook his head, using the force to grab their cloaks. With that done, the two champions exited the stage, replaced by several other sparring partners.

"That was…Impressive," Master Windu said as they approached. "All in a day's work, Mace," Anakin replied. Mace shook his head. "Well, I'm off to go get myself murdered by_ my_ old master. Obi-wan, are you sure you won't have sympathy on a poor soul and take my place?" he implored, casting a glance at his fellow council member, who smirked.

"Oh no, my friend. I rather like living," he said, which received a vague chuckle from those nearby. Mace gave him a dangerous scowl. "Kill you, I will not," Yoda said defensively as he shuffled into view. "Maim you, I might. Undecided, am I," he announced.

Padme snickered when Mace stared in horror. "Brilliant," grumbled the normally stern man. "Instead of dying outright, I'll spend the rest of my waking days crippled in a bed. Thank you for the honor, Master Yoda," he commented dryly.

"Welcome, you are," Yoda said with a wave of his hand, heading down the stairs. There were several Jedi teams below already, sparring in their own circles of color and brilliant light. "They look like they're dancing," Bail marveled quietly.

"Most Jedi styles of fighting are merely dancing techniques, yes," Obi-wan commented, with a small smile. Bail cocked an amused eyebrow. "I didn't take you for the dancer type, Master Kenobi," he observed. Obi-wan shrugged. "Never judge a book by its cover?" he suggested casually.

"I'm starting to think that about the entire Order, admittedly," said the leader of the rebels. He leaned against the railing, relaxed. "Obi! Can you teach me how to do that?" Leia squealed as she and Luke rushed in between the tall legs and billowing cloaks to hug the two heroes.

"It isn't something that can be taught, Leia. Aren't you too big to be carried?" he inquired. Leia only blinked up at him, slender arms wrapped around his shins.

"She is, but I'll do it," Anakin laughed as he hoisted both children unto his broad shoulders. Nava sighed contentedly and looked about, where Padawans, Knights and masters sat around the balconies and below, talking, laughing and overall actually _living._

For once, they were not just surviving; they were _living_. For an order that existed solely for the survival of others, this was a major step in some right direction they had never seen, sensed or known about.

_The council planned this, didn't they?_ She asked suddenly, turning to a council member himself. He cocked an eyebrow at her, bemused. _Maybe, _came the unspecified answer.

Nava narrowed her eyes at him, naturally suspicious. Yet she sensed that the council members were having just as much unstrained fun as the rest of them. Should not there have been some warning…?

"Come on. Jinx, Intrepid, three way spar right now!" Ahsoka demanded, pulling her from the broad realm of contemplation.

Nava was alone where she stood, the others having either dispersed or been pulled away by conversation. Nava shook her head; who knew how the mysterious council worked?

They were the greatest sorcerers of them all, anyway. Some things were not meant to be known. She smiled as Ahsoka, Intrepid and Jinx thundered their animated way down to the sparring center to prove their skill and prowess.

With that knowledge in mind, Nava sprinted merrily into the crowd to locate Master Luminara. She had not played a decent Sabbacc partner in months.


	15. A celebration of life

~Luke's POV~

Luke was breathless with laughter. He gazed around the long tree limbs of the nearest master and looked about for Leia. Luke felt as if he were in the forest, like the ones that had been on Biyalia.

The long legs of the Jedi were like trees. Their billowing cloaks tickled his neck and cheeks as he flashed in between them. On the ground, it was as humid and earthy as a true forest floor.

The force chased after him like yapping puppies, Luke knew the force liked to have fun too. The clashing lightsabers below made the perfect imitation of singing crickets and birds.

Luke could see it around him, the green foliage; he could smell the morning air, so cool and damp around him. Protected by the cloaked trees and the sounds of artificial birds, he sped to and from, uncontained, enraptured, free, boundless, happy…

"Tag! You're it!" Leia screeched, popping from behind a tree limb like the wild Banshee's of old Jedi legends Luke had read about. He jumped and twirled when she nearly pounded his shoulder in with her quick tap.

The force puppies yipped and jumped at her heels, and for a moment, he saw a glimmering golden crown on her head, complete with a silver robe. Then the vision was gone; and he laughed as she turned on her heel and vanished into the crowd.

He gave chase, the wind tousling his hair, the smell of grubs and soil mixing in his nostrils, the songs of birds in his ears, he felt like a king, sort of how mother used to be a queen. Didn't that make him a prince, sort of? Prince Luke and Princess Leia, Jedi warriors.

Luke was so preoccupied with his thoughts and so bedazzled by his chase that he did not realize the obstacle that had just moved in front of him until he had run face first into it.

"Oof!" he cried as he landed squarely on his rump, nose stinging with the impact. He wrinkled it a few times and looked up to see an intimidating giant looming above, a massive scowl on rumpled features.

Sheepishly, he stood and bowed, like a good youngling. "Excuse me, master. I'm sorry. I'm playing tag," he explained apologetically. The Jedi above him answered with a deeper scowl, dark eyes thundering with disapproval.

The five other Jedi behind him turned to peer at Luke over his shoulder. They were all scowling dangerously, eyes thundering too. Luke was fascinated.

"You shouldn't be running at all, youngling. That is no way for Jedi younglings to behave," the Jedi above growled. He was a Mon Calamari, unnaturally tall for the species, large eyes expressive in every way, fish like nose flaring with tepid dissatisfaction. "Jedi don't play tag?" Luke inquired, horrified. What sort of life was that?

"Isn't that one of Skywalker's children?" one of the other Jedi behind demanded. This was met by significant grunts and nods from the others, who stared at him as if he were an abomination to the force.

Luke scratched behind his ear curiously, noting that one of the Jedi had a learner's braid hanging just visible beneath moving tentacles. "I'm Luke," he agreed, aware that some people might get mixed up because he and Leia were twins.

"My name means light," this seemed to irk the Jedi all the more. He heard a voice grumble something about attachment not being the breeder of light but darker offspring.

He did not know what that meant, but he understood the tone. "And I'm Leia," another voice piped in. His sister appeared at his side. "My name means peace," deeper scowls and grunts all around.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, letting instinct flow through him. He could feel…Not hostility, really, but dislike radiate from the master above. "Jedi don't play tag?" he repeated.

"No, youngling. Jedi do not_ play_ at all," the master replied sourly. Leia sent him a startled glance. "No…Playing?" She squeaked, as horrified as he initially had been.

Luke caught on. "Oh, we don't play, really, but we _explore_… Huh?" He asked, grinding out the familiar word with difficulty. He still was not very good at his x's yet. They came out as a stutter. "It depends on the situation," the master above consented, hands on slender hips.

Luke nodded. "We like exploring, huh, Leia?" he nudged his sister, who nodded promptly. "Luke likes to climb trees and take apart machines and things, but mother says that's because he's a boy and all little boys have that phase," she recited knowingly.

"Tearing apart machines? Climbing trees? How vulgar," the Padawan scoffed, to the general agreeing murmur of his elders. "He's already displaying aggressive tendencies," another mumbled ruefully.

"I like reading and speech making," Leia offered. "Self-aggrandizing business is the production of word play," the master grunted, and another ripple of agreeing mumbles rose.

"What are we supposed to do then?" Leia demanded, frustrated with the lack of praise. Luke crossed his arms, pouting. He liked climbing trees and tinkering, what was so wrong with it?

"Make a good image for your Order. We must all uphold the strictest means of decorum. This lollygagging is unacceptable," he gestured to the saber play going on below and the circles of conversing Jedi and senators.

"We are Jedi, not…Circus dwellers or civilian soldiers. This recreation is a distraction from our true goal. So is the state of playing such juvenile games as _tag_," he said.

The others nodded behind him, like a pack of mimicking parrots. Luke blinked, stunned at the dullness in his fellow Jedi's tone. He was so…Different from the cheery and animated faces and opinions of his family.

"So having a good time is wrong?" Leia summed up, sounding irritated. The Jedi master turned to her and narrowed his eyes appraisingly.

"Not _wrong_, per se, but… inadequate, diverting, and ill worthy of a Jedi's life. We must have the most serious and committed minds, unfit for things such as this," he leaned forward, hands folded behind his back.

"Your parent's irresponsible and unpardonable imprudence is not your faults," he observed mildly, almost spitting with his outrage.

"We cannot fault you what occurred before your existence, but proper Jedi we may make out of you yet," somehow Luke felt that this proper Jedi thing wasn't going to be a lot of fun.

_These people are crazy as Jar-Jar. Let's go play some more tag_, Leia suggested through the force.

_No, mother said that the Jedi are our family. We should listen to them,_ he replied obstinately. Leia internally sighed. _Fine. __**Then **__can we play tag?_ He nodded and turned attentive eyes to the Jedi master, waiting expectantly for his input. "We wanna be good Jedi," Luke said cautiously.

"And we want people to see us being good and think the Jedi are good too. Can you show us?" Apparently, this answer was the correct one because the master nodded, and straightened.

"Very well, young man. Come into the circle, and let us begin," he stepped back, allowing space for Luke to badger in, Leia reluctantly on his heels. Then, like a prison door, the Jedi master stepped back into place and they were trapped in the middle of an elusively light circle.

"First," snapped the obscure leader of these crazy nut heads. "The walk, then the talk, then the words, then the…" Leia sighed. "Can we hurry?" She demanded, rudely. Luke groaned.

This was bound to be a long lesson indeed. The Jedi master, whom Luke had privately nicknamed Master Smiles, gave her a cold glance. "Since you are so_ impatient_ to learn, first, we have to study our walk," he marched across from them.

"Now, a Jedi sometimes has only his pride and skill on a mission. His walk shows the universe this; your gait must be as confident and dignified as if you were Yoda himself. Now, back straight, legs erect. No, absolutely no slouching or _swaggering_. Here, you're hopelessly muddled, child…Like this….There...Not like a stick, impatient girl, like a…A…Queen, that's it. Like a queen," Master Smiles instructed contemptuously.

Leia, having heard the word queen, muttered something under her breath but continued. Luke forced his legs into a straight position and endured the creak of his back as he moved onward; ridiculously straight legged.

"Don't _waddle_, for goodness sakes, girl. Boy, you are not a tin man; don't jerk about like Grievous. Oh, dear you two are hopelessly muddled," he muttered again. His comrades nodded solemnly. Luke felt a flare of fury from Leia. "We are not muddled!" she growled.

Master Smiles sighed. "You are. Hopelessly," he disagreed. "Dreadfully. Inexplicably," clucked the others of the procession. Luke let out a huff and shook his head. He was _not _a dreadful muddler.

He was a Jedi, like father. He relaxed his legs, so that they moved naturally, but set his shoulders back, set his spine to perfect vertical position, hands folded behind him serenely as he had seen his father do occasionally, and strutted.

Like he was Yoda himself.

"Good, young Luke. Just like that," the Padawan encouraged. Luke could not see his face past the hood shrouding it in shadow, but Luke thought he saw a grin. Leia glanced at him, copied his stature, and the crowd's murmuring of pity turned to nods of admiration.

"Good. Next lesson…"

* * *

~Windu's POV~

Mace Windu was relatively sure he was dead. All evidence to the contrary, he certainly didn't feel alive. He felt flattened, defeated, recycled; then again, he _had_ just fought Yoda.

"Are you quite alright, old friend? Have you joined the force already?" a voice chuckled from above. Mace opened to his eyes to see Kit Fisto, Shaak Ti, Master Tinn and Obi-wan standing above him, grinning.

"Well, I believe I know why Dooku went to the Dark Side," he groaned. The others tittered, finding something funny with this situation for some odd reason. "Groan, you should not. Did well, proud of your progress I am," Yoda chuffed, as his walking stick clanged down near Mace's ear. Amusement radiated from him out of the force.

"Surely, I would be flattered if I didn't feel like I had been trampled by an insane Zillo beast," he replied, sitting up and rubbing his head, filled with stinging knots no doubt. "Master Yoda, you are the epithet of size matters not," Obi-wan observed, with a devilish grin. Mace glared at the younger man.

Why hadn't Qui-gon beaten the cheek out of him? "Your wit, you should hold, Master Kenobi, or trample you next I will," Yoda threatened. Obi-wan did not seem intimidated.

He merely gave Yoda a charming smile. Mace wiped at the sweat lining his brow. Kit grasped his outstretched arm and helped him to his feet. He groaned as several twisted knots in his back and shoulders tugged stingingly at his conscious_. Yoda, you old monster._

"The senators?" he inquired quietly. "Are-shockingly-enjoying themselves," Shaak Ti reported, glancing about at the ring of non-force users conversing with Jedi. "A step forward; is this," Yoda hummed, cheerily. They ducked as a sudden orange body went sailing over their heads acrobatically.

"How slow can you go, Jinxy-boy?" She taunted. Following close on her heels were two Twi'leks. "Stop _running_ and I'll show you, sunshine," bit back the other, advancing, a malicious twinkle in his eye. "You two are twits," the more cultured of the three remarked calmly, as the fighting threesome collided in a flash of saber power.

The elders beat a hasty retreat from the battlefield lest they unexpectedly lose a vital limb in the fray. "This fun is highly irregular," Master Fisto observed, his eyes were serious but a grin stretched his face. "More along the days before war and Dooku. When even the Courascant's artificial sun seemed to shine brighter," Shaak Ti agreed, softly.

Mace spared her a long glance. "Is not today the anniversary of Silldem?" He asked quietly. The female sighed and leaned against the railing, a deep smile of sadness etching placid features.

The others joined her, staring out at the young Jedi below, the future masters and council members of the order, whose minds would hopefully not remain stained by the gruel of war…And loss.

"It has been twelve years since Silldem was lost. He would be proud, I think, of the Jedi and their efforts," and that meant the most to all of them. "If only the other ancestors thought it so," A silence, amongst the loud vibrancy of life in the room, a tiny stain of grief that flowed untouched throughout the room; flowing on the currents of the force.

So much life…It could end in a matter of minutes, life was an unstable, brittle thing, yet it fought back, it persevered…

It_ moved_ on.

Silldem had been a wise and cunning Jedi. All the more so because he had died saving Shaak Ti from an explosion. Love made people do stupid, reckless, brave things. Mace would know. After Tilda…

He would know.

They all knew. They all knew the price of life and death, of losing and obtaining, love and war, duty and sacrifice. They knew the price; they_ lived_ the price. "I see his face in the expressions of the younglings sometimes. His eyes…yet the force is still there, ever flowing. He is here. I do not grieve," any longer, she meant. Mace remembered when she had grieved.

He remembered it well. He remembered bringing with him hot cups of tea into dimmed quarters, he remembered Adi sitting at the side of an old, hunched mentor, a shawl wrapped around shaking shoulders.

He remembered the council sitting on the floor around her, drawing the force, pleading with it to heal a heart they knew had been broken, to help dispel a pain they all knew intimately.

He remembered her mourning, and Fisto's and Ki-Adi's, and all the rest. Vividly, he remembered his own. After a period of time the pain lessened, it did not go away, it was still excruciating, but it was also strengthening. Death did not break the bond, did not destroy the spirit, only the body. The force could heal, and it had, over and over again.

They all exhaled, as one, always as one. After a moment, Kit spoke. "Obi-wan, was it truly the twins that built that giant contraption?" he asked. Obi-wan nodded, a ghost of a smile flitting across his features.

"I'm afraid so," he agreed. Shaak Ti and Fisto both shook their heads. "What are we going to do about those two?" Tinn moaned. "What are we going to do about all four of them?" Kit demanded. Another struggle and debate they had not spoken aloud yet. It was a touchy subject.

"I vote we blame Obi-wan," Mace replied, with a dull shrug. The others snickered. Obi-wan cocked an affronted eyebrow.

"Me? Why am I always the first to be blamed? Technically, it is the council's fault. Had you agreed to my plea to make corporal punishment allowed in Anakin's case, we would not be having this discussion," he told them.

They laughed as one. Obi-wan had never and would never plead for such a case, nor would he ever have executed it even if it were not against the code. He spoiled that boy rotten half the time anyway.

Mace shook his head and sighed, letting the tenseness in his shoulders lessen, just a bit. Why were they discussing death and discoveries? This was a celebration of _life_. They were still alive. The order was alive; maybe not thriving, but alive.

And_ that_ was a cause worth celebrating. Tilda would have agreed.


	16. Endless joy

~Ahsoka's POV~

"Bravo, you three. You have managed to officially run each other out of reasonable breath," Lux laughed, clapping his hands appreciatively as the hours-long fighters trudged up the steps, panting.

"You…Shut…Up…Lux," Ahsoka gasped, hanging on to the railing for dear life. Jinx and Intrepid staggered up the steps behind her, breathless, sweating, sated.

"Yes, Lux. Snap a clapper to it," Intrepid collapsed against the bars, gasping, laughing faintly. "That was fun," she said.

Ahsoka plopped down next to her. "It was. Good form, Jinx. You've gotten better since the last I saw you," she said to her opponent, in a generous mood.

The regarded male, who was currently doubled over with his hands on his knees, flashed a weak grin as a trickle of sweat ran down his wide brow.

"I've changed, Soka dear. And so have you-congratulations to the both of you. The ex-Separatists is right, I'm out of breath," he gasped, sounding reasonably _possessive_ of his breath, but it hardly mattered.

"Is that my new title? Ex-Separatist?" Lux demanded. "It isn't extraordinarily new, Lux," Intrepid pointed out. "Though," an extra voice piped in thoughtfully.

"We do not hold anything against you for it, of course, youngster," turning, Ahsoka's face brightened when she noticed a familiar figure. "Admiral Ackbar!" she said, stepping forward and grab his scaled forearms amiably.

Intrepid, Jinx and Lux smiled behind her. "Yes, it is good to see you as well, General Tano. General Camber. General Bonteri. General Zadya," said the Mon calamari man, nodding cordially to Ahsoka's companions. "That was quite a fight you all had going there," he complimented. "That wasn't a fight at all, Admiral. Play, merely," Intrepid assured him.

Ahsoka crossed her arms. "I was not aware you had been called on this mission as well," she admitted. He nodded. "Well, all of us admirals are here. We didn't know what for at first. But when we learned whatever it was we were defending was important to the Jedi, we were more than eager," Ahsoka exchanged glances with Intrepid. At least someone had some loyalty and sympathy for their cause, whether lost, unimportant or not.

"Your Order has stood by the Rebels and democracy longer than we know. You're the _real _leaders of this rebellion, however much those senators try to act like it," Ackbar snorted, jerking his head back to indicate the numerous politicians in the room. Intrepid tactfully switched to a new topic.

"How is your family, Admiral?" she inquired politely. The force suddenly went taut with panic and a vague sense of dread, but quickly settled down, along with the flare of alarm in Ackbar's large eyes. Ahsoka shared a glance with the others, suspicion flaring.

"They are…Doing fine. Thank you for asking. If you will excuse me," with a final bow of his large head, the admiral sauntered away quickly, not waiting for another word to be exchanged.

Ahsoka crossed her arms, wondering at the abrupt egress of one of the rebellion's most committed military leaders. It certainly was strange…

"Look at how close the stars are. You could touch them if you wanted," Lux suddenly marveled, his attention elsewhere. Ahsoka looked out of the great viewpoints and smiled gently.

Lux did indeed have a point. The stars were so close… They burned bright just outside the shields. "I wonder if the fact that Ilum is so abundant in the force has anything to do with it," Intrepid contemplated, sounding amused at Lux's lack of focus.

Ahsoka smiled. "Maybe it's us," she chirped. "I doubt the stars have come here to flock us. We aren't that terribly important," Jinx droned, bored as ever. Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

"I mean the way we're finally relaxing, block head. The light is making the stars brighter," she proposed. Jinx looked highly skeptical of this. Intrepid nodded, thoughtfully pursuing some philosophical premise in her mind and Lux lost in his own thoughts.

Ahsoka turned from them all to peer out at the galaxies and suns and moons around. The force worked in mysterious ways; and the light had a sense of humor.

The Jedi were said to brighten the universe, so why not the stars, too? What if Master Plo rested in those nebula's, somehow, in some mystical way which sounded childish but was a true, youthful hope in her chest? Suddenly, she cocked her head and grinned.

She was relatively sure that the light was making the stars brighter. It had to be. "Hey, Jinx? Master Secura sure seems to be stuffing herself a lot. Has she been eating lately?" she observed from her peripheral vision, casually. Jinx's head snapped up, and he quickly searched the force to discover the truth.

"She slept," he realized, startled, with a small sigh of relief. His eyes liquefied and his shoulder dropped for a moment, seeming to lose a few pounds, but he quickly masked it back with his normal cold aloofness.

"Thank the force," he breathed. Intrepid glanced at them, curious, but Lux nodded in what he believed to be understanding. "The customary case of Jedi stubbornness?" he inquired of Jinx.

Jinx nodded, a small smile quirking the sides of his mouth. Ahsoka decided that he was point five percent less of a grouch than she had thought before. He sent her a suspicious glance, which she ignored, feigning innocence.

With that done, she turned back to the stars and her contemplation. It made her feel strangely blissful to think that her happiness made Master Plo perhaps shine brighter.

That she was yet capable of light happiness. War had not taken the ability for happiness from the Jedi. Not yet.

It was a good thought, the first in a very long time.

* * *

~Anakin's POV~

He was intoxicated by her. After all these years and challenges, she seemed to hold a certain sway and spell over him. Even with several different Jedi around, and the council's stern eyes almost glaring at him from a semiconscious above, he could not take his eyes away from her. Anakin had seen and met beautiful women before.

He had met many, many beautiful beings.

He thought of Ahsoka as beautiful, yet not in the same way Padme was beautiful. Ahsoka was beautiful in a stubborn-as-rocks, yet compassionate as a saint, childishly endearing way that made Anakin maternal.

He thought Nava was beautiful, but she was the sunshine upon a cold shore and motherly advice that reminded him of the smell of baking cookies beautiful.

They weren't Padme beautiful; the sort of exquisite that made thoughts mix and tumble in his head. He didn't even know if the words were in basic, Huttese, or some force forgotten language of ancient peoples.

_BeautifulmagicalspellbindingPadmewifeprotectorange lforgiverunworthyofherlightlovedesireprotectionlov ersolovelybrowneyessmallsmileshe'slookingatmeohfor ce_…

"Staring is not polite, Ani," Nava scolded, breaking Anakin out of his thoughts. He gave a start, guiltily, but relaxed when he noticed his foster mother. "Neither is sneaking up on people. You Jedi," he teased, with a charming smile. It did nothing to fool her.

He had always found that so annoying about motherly intuition. Nothing got past them, by force. "Since you're so fond of gawking at the woman, just go talk to her already," she told him, blandly.

Anakin glanced around, but the few people nearby had not noticed the topic of their conversation. Thank goodness for Jedi discreetness. He sighed and crossed his arms. "I can't," he responded, miserably. Nava cocked an eyebrow. "Because of Jiro?" She asked, without gentleness.

Anakin nodded. "Because of Jiro," he agreed, with a rueful smile. Though, nothing that had anything to do with the subject of Jiro was funny. _Nothing_. His family had been split apart, his heart had been broken, Padme had lost a child.

This wasn't funny. Indeed, his black humor rather disturbed him. "You need to let it go, Anakin," Nava informed him promptly. "Nava…I mean…I'm trying, okay? I'm _trying_ to let it go. It isn't easy," he bit back.

"There is no try, there is do or do not. There has to be something holding you back from doing. What is it?" She demanded, without much preamble. Nava, to some degree, was as forthright as Obi-wan was evasive.

This seemed to be within her degrees. Anakin twisted his mouth into a regretful expression and looked away. "I don't know," he whispered-admitted-growled. "Yes you do. You just don't want to say it," Nava corrected knowingly. Again with this womanly intuition nonsense, couldn't she give him a break?

He looked away, stubborn. Nava…She just didn't understand. Obi-wan had never…Never _betrayed _her. He had never forsaken her trust, her love, her faith.

He would never, and she was secure in that knowledge. Anakin was not, not anymore. He…He had thought Padme loved him, but she had shattered that infinite trust.

Trust was easy to break and harder to build up.

"So you're holding a grudge," Nava guessed, her purple-blue eyes unyielding, shining; rock hard. "I am not holding a grudge. I…I just don't know if I can trust her. She broke my heart, Nava. What if…What if she does it again?" he asked, uncertainly.

Nava spared him no pity. "Ah," she said with an perceptive nod. "So you fear loss and grief," she summed up, making it sound so simple, so _pathetic_, as if this were a mere child's game.

Anakin shrugged, biting his tongue. "Call it what you will, but we've been hesitant around each other. I…Just don't know what to do," he lamented. "Let it go?" Nava suggested, lightly.

Anakin rolled his eyes. Really. She was as irritating as Obi-wan was. Hadn't he explained this already? He couldn't let it go. Not something like this. Padme needed to earn his trust again; he was too hurt to just _give_ it back.

"Well, how is she supposed to start earning the trust back if you avoid her like some sort of anger driven, frightened child? That's your _wife_, Anakin. Go talk to her for force sakes. You're spoiling the activities with your moping," Nava scolded, waving pointedly the woman of the subject.

"But what if I say something _wrong_; or she does?" Anakin demanded. "What does fear lead too?" Nava responded levelly. "Nava, I'm not a…"

"Well? If you insist on languishing like a child then you must need to relearn a child's lesson. You are Jedi, Anakin, really. Normal people might have years to build trust but we don't. What does fear lead too?" She inquired again, with a frank politeness that infuriated him.

"Anger and anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering," Anakin finished. "And what is anger?" Anakin spit the answers out razor fast, like a blasted spar. He had them memorized, he had repeated them till his heart was wrung and his voice was hoarse.

"A two sided blade that destroys its yielder before its victim," he quoted irritably. "What is fear?" He huffed but answered.

"Fear is a noose that binds until it strangles," he replied, nerves sorely taut. "Attachment? I know you have to have _this _one memorized," her sharp wit was not helping matters. There was no bitterness in her tone as there was in his.

"Attachment is one of the strongest blindfolds against truth. But…" He started to say, but she interrupted anyway. "Where should your focus be, young one?" he hated it when people called him that.

"In the present moment," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to avoid covering his ears. "Does the past matter?" She was so much like Obi-wan. Truly, why had the force cursed him with two? Was not he wretched enough with the one?

"No, Master Obi-wan," he replied cynically. She pretended not to notice the edge on his tone. "Now," announced a new voice, just as he paraded over, with Padme's elbow in his hand.

Anakin exchanged a surprised glance with her, but her slightly reddened cheeks told him that she had received the same harangue from Obi-wan.

Did these two choreograph these types of things? Had they_ planned_ it? Probably not; they were both cannily perceptive.

"What do true friends do?" he demanded, as an after statement. Anakin's defensive feathers of initial combat fury, due to the uncomfortable new development that they were now cornered, sapped slowly.

"True friends never get in your way unless you happen to be going down," he sighed at last. Padme smiled regretfully. "And think where man's glory begins and ends, and say my glory was that I had such friends," she added, glaring at Obi-wan as she playfully snatched her elbow from his fatherly grip. Anakin had to grin, and possessively drew her towards him.

Obi-wan made no move to keep her. He crossed his arms and gave that maddening little smirk that said 'I'm not so decrepit and unhelpful as I seem, huh?' and being Obi-wan he would not say aloud.

His looks said it all. Nava did as well. She put one good-humored elbow on Obi-wan's shoulder and shook her head. "Ah, love. What a fussy thing. We are excellent teachers, Obi, don't you say?" she yawned. "We will receive an award one of these days for our performances," Obi-wan agreed cheerily.

"If you two ancient ones last long enough," Anakin quipped. "Yeah, in the next two or three years when they recognize your superior reprimanding and boring people to tears skills, you might be too far gone to care," Padme piped in helpfully.

They both snickered at the expert glare delivered from both masters. Before the game of wits could be conversationally engaged however, a most rare and astonishing sight met their eyes.

Luke and Leia skimming their way over to them, mouths set in a grim and determined line, eyes betraying not a flicker of childish emotion, but twinkling with amusement.

They did not walk, but skimmed across the floor as easily and confidently as if they were levitating off the ground.

As if they were_ Yoda_ himself. Their tiny cloaks, usually torn away and abandoned in honor of more electrifying play, were both back on their shoulders. Luke's brown one nipped at his heels playfully. Leia's black one splayed out behind her regally.

Queen and king wood sprites from an enchanted forest. They looked like royalty of a great and divine warrior clan. They looked so amazingly like grown Jedi knights that Anakin was left dumbstruck, sure he was staring into the distant future.

Padme, Nava and Obi-wan's shock echoed through the force. Luke and Leia, two five year olds, halted in front of their elders, hair pulled back to show stunningly radiant faces. The light laughed about them, enjoying this game of dress-up as extensively as the twins.

"Luke? Leia?" Padme croaked. "Are you playing a new game?" Nava inquired curiously. Luke shook his head, one side of his mouth curled; then vanished. "No, master. We're practicing," he explained.

Anakin balked, had he just said _master?_ To Nava? They never called her that, or any of them that. It was always first names. "We're_ proper_ Jedi now," Leia added, eyes sparkling with added cheer. They were having fun.

_"…__Proper Jedi?"_ Obi-wan repeated blankly. "Yes, and doing wonderfully at it as well. They are no longer hopelessly befuddled," a third voice intercepted.

Anakin tensed as a Mon Calamari Jedi master appeared, trailed by his usual companions. These Jedi had made their disdain for Anakin clear. And what exactly they suspected the council should do with him, Padme and the twins was clear as well.

He was about to demand what this fish-monger had done to his twins, but the Jedi master hadn't even acknowledged his presence. "Very good, light, peace. You spoke when spoken too. That is great progress," he told them proudly.

Anakin cocked an eyebrow as Luke and Leia bowed deeply. "We come to serve, master," they chimed in perfect studious unison. The procession behind Master Pence mumbled their proud encouragement.

Anakin frowned. Did he sense…_Respect _in the air? Did he sense acceptance? He never had a chance to ponder it. Master Pence turned to him, his chest swelled just slightly, enough so that the untrained eye would not be able to see it.

His mouth was scowling as ever, but large globular eyes shined with victory. "Though they were born of the dark seed, they are indeed servants of the light. I have made them into proper Jedi," he told Anakin boastingly.

"They were _proper Jedi_ before," he scoffed, stiffening. Padme laid a comforting hand on his arm, but her entire body taut as a waiting cats.

Obi-wan and Nava remained adroitly aloof. "They were not. They were hopelessly muddled," master Pence informed him condescendingly. The others garbled and nodded their assent. Bunch of followers.

Were not Jedi supposed to work and think as_ individuals_? This pack of gundarks were nothing more than a petty rumor mill all in themselves.

"Despite this, they have an intelligence like none I have ever seen. This game_ tag_ they play, it has some use. And this frivolous act of socializing which the Order has imbibed," he waved at the party.

"They have uses. They are…Proper, from a certain point of view. The Jedi are renewing their strength and determination by having…What's the word, Leia?" He leaned down to peer inquisitively down at her, as if she were a seasoned master giving him wise instructions to a paradise in the mountains.

"Fun, master," Leia said with a small smile. "Ah, yes," the cocky barve straightened once more, hands folded serenely behind his back. He gazed at Anakin and Padme again, with less scorn than before.

"_Fun_. Odd word, that. Then again, words are an odd business. You two are already entrenched on the road to destruction," he gave them a somber nod. "Yet I do not worry for your children. They have good heads on their shoulders. They'll bring respect and…._Fun _back into the name of the Jedi, after this dreadful war. Yes, they will indeed," he turned away then, and Padme squeezed his arm, halting his foot in mid stride to catch the obnoxious master straight in his bigheaded behind.

Master Pence, surprising Anakin and his assembly, knelt to put large webbed hands on either of the twins shoulders solemnly. "Luke, Leia," he breathed. "May the force be with you," he said gravely. Luke and Leia bowed with just as much solemnest.

"And you, Master," they intoned doggedly. With that, the scowling master nodded to the masters staring at him from a distance, and with his cloak also yapping at his heels, billowed away as if he were Yoda himself, his cronies right behind him. _Go fall off a cliff,_ Anakin shot after him in the force. "Good riddance," Padme mumbled.

"Master!" Suddenly, astonishing Anakin even further, Luke screamed the name. Master Pence turned halfway, and Anakin was bowled over by the harsh truth of his eyes, there were_ tears_ in his eyes. His mouth dropped.

At the same time, bottom lips puckering, sweet sorrow singing in the radiant force, the twins bolted like scared rabbits back to the demeaning master, who dropped to his knees, arms outstretched. His procession sat around, patiently, eyes twinkling.

_Have I gone mad? _

Luke and Leia squeezed themselves in his arms, pressing their faces in against his chest. Anakin inhaled sharply as several Jedi turned to see their comrade in close embrace with the twins, an embrace that screamed unbecoming and _improper _affection.

Leia departed, and seized the large head in between her hands, staring him dead in his face with a concerned expression. "You gotta be_ good_, okay fishy?" she demanded, in a childish squeak.

"Did she just call a Jedi master fishy?" Nava asked from somewhere in the distance, incredulous. "I will be, little peace," the Jedi master agreed, gently running a clawed finger down her cheek tenderly. Anakin could not believe his eyes. Padme seemed to be rubbing hers rather hard.

"Promise?" Luke added, his high voice going up another octave in his innocent sadness. Master Pence, who Anakin really did not know how to describe now, nodded gravely.

"You have my word," he promised. "Okay," the twins released, sniffling, readjusting his rumpled cloak compassionately and patting his face comfortingly. "Bye group!" Luke added; with a watery grin and wave to the crowd assembled about.

They answered with small exclamations of "Bye, light, bye peace," and shuffled to their feet alongside their leader. With a final nod and comforting smile (force, he could actually _smile_!) from the crying Jedi master, Master Pence swept back into the crowd, vanishing forever more with his crowd. Anakin knew, without explanation, that he would never see any of them again.

Luke and Leia walked back, faces tear stained, eyes downcast. Anakin did not know how to begin. "Um…Twins? What was that about?" Padme asked, gently, without hiding her confusion.

"Fishy's babies died!" Leia blurted, before she could stop herself. Luke nodded and peered up, eyelashes glittering with tears of pity. "He had a boy and girl-twins, like us. They died. Isn't that sad, Fatha?" he looked to Anakin, who was frankly bewildered.

"Wait," Obi-wan moved forward, faster than light. "Say that again," he ordered, eyes traveling through the crowd, already searching for the Jedi they would never see again. "The mommy died, too. Fishy is sad," Leia looked out the spaceport windows at the stars.

"Fishy is very sad," she repeated, eyes glazed over with mourning. Anakin marveled at his children, grieved for the man who had lost his own children and wife, understood the resentment between them, desperate to find the missing Jedi…But he was gone. Where, none of them knew. But he was gone.

"Yes," Obi-wan was staring out the window too. Anakin felt his heart clench. Padme gripped his arm, _hard_, sudden shivers wracking her body.

He gripped her hand just as tightly, kissed her knuckles, thanked and rejoiced in the force for his family, for his life. Suddenly, Jiro did not seem to matter. What had happened in the past; it could not_ matter_. It just couldn't.

Anakin would not let it interfere. Life was too short, too unpredictable. "Fatha, do you think we helped fishy? He taught us a lot of stuff. Why'd he teach it all to us?" Luke asked, tugging at his pant's leg, wide eyes still so innocent, so unknowing.

"Maybe he wanted it in good hands," Nava whispered, watching the spot where they had vanished with eyes that were glazed over with understanding, and compassion. Leia looked up as well, this time at Obi-wan, who seemed lost in his own thoughts. A spark of fire leapt between them.

"Did we help him, Obi?" she asked in a whisper. Obi-wan turned to peer down at her with sightless pupils, then a gradual, perfectly jubilant and heartfelt smile spread across his features, revealing a set of dimples Anakin had never noticed before.

"Yes, Leia. I'm very proud of you both," He knelt and swiped away a tear, the smile still growing, multiplying until his joy burned so brightly in the force it brought tears to Anakin eyes.

They were so lucky, so happy, so…_Alive_. He was alive. He had that, if nothing more. "You didn't just help him. You saved him. You saved him from a _very_ bad thing," Obi-wan put a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be good," he reassured her.

Leia smiled back, hesitantly, unsure of why he was so delighted. Luke smiled, Padme smiled, and Nava smiled.

They looked out the windows at the stars above, and for that one moment, felt endless joy.

* * *

~Yoda's POV~

Dozens of feet above the several happy spectacles happening below, sitting casually in a circular cooler unit large enough to accommodate his body, the Jedi

leader sat silently, watching without word, thoughtful in his demeanor.

Below him, he watched Padawan's finally show their saber skills in a tournaments of friendly rivalry, showing off the various tricks and stunts war had taught them to their long-time-no-see friends.

Yoda placed his hands upon his crossed legs, and felt a creak in his old bones. Sometimes he could swear he was turning to dust yet alive.

He chuckled sardonically at this thought and let his eyes roam over the sea of head tails, scales, hair and fins. It seemed as if the entire universe, every species had gathered here despite past or prejudice, to prove that different groups could coexist in harmony.

It was a fragile harmony, certainly. For right outside the windows, Empire cruisers hovered. But this night, or day, whichever Ilum's clock said, there were no persistent whispers from the Dark Side. Indeed, the Dark had retreated to leave this place completely untouched, untainted, aglow in the force so brightly they all resembled tiny suns.

There were not many times when Yoda learned something new; he tended to merely re-learn life's cosmic lessons. Yet he had learned much from this generation of Jedi. He had learned infinite amounts of things.

And there were not many times when Yoda was happy, but he was happy now.

He smiled, genuinely feeling the ache in his bones lessen to a mere dull itch. He did not seem so old anymore. And the universe did not seem so dark, their worries not so extended, their chances not so low and the…And them not so crazy. They were beautiful.

"Hmm," He had lost a student to the Dark Side. He had lost countless more to death, incalculable numbers of friends and comrades to death as well. They were one with the force, while old Yoda remained as their last testament. Usually, this grief was enough to ensure his regular hobble.

But at this moment he could have skipped.

He had been Leader of the Jedi for…What was it now? Three hundred years? Yes. Three hundred. He had seen war, famine, and the casual downslide of democracy for a long time, and then he had seen peace, prosperity, luxury and justice work its wonders. He had seen it all.

Yet this was the first time he had ever been _happy._

Staring down at His Order now, he felt a smile coming on. His order. He was leader of…Of all this. He lead and was looked up to by these people. Wonderful people, and seeing them smile, Yoda felt tears spring to his eyes.

Down below, his council roamed about, laughing and talking as they had not since the start of the dark days. The Clone Wars.

He watched his Padawans, cast from their home and into war at a moment's notice, twirl and laugh as if they were younglings back at the Temple again.

He saw His Knights as they finally leaned against the walls, having stood tall and proud far too long and actually eat after a long and slow starvation in the name of justice.

He saw_ Jedi_, not war veterans. And he was proud to be their leader, humbled in fact. For how could he be above or better or wiser than any of these people?

They were suns of laughter in the force, prodigies all of them within the Light, which caressed at him with a small laugh, proud of it's creation. _They're beautiful, aren't they? _

Yes, they were. His brothers and sisters. His Jedi. His Order.

Humming quietly to himself, Yoda put his cane to the side and leaned against the cold metal wall himself, letting the Light and the sound of laughter, talking and jokes sing him its forever lullaby.

He was happy within the knowledge that his order was safe from harm, for now. They were happy and free, tamed and sheltered within the Light's garden. For this moment, The future twinkled its eye, perhaps in a slightly better favor for the Jedi than before.

Yoda let himself fall into one of the deepest slumbers of his life, felling unequalled joy, and below, the family reunion continued well into the early evenings of the morning.

* * *

Well, now that I've given a piece of joy, the real battle begins...

~Queen Yoda


End file.
